


kill the present day

by chailattemusings



Series: persephone [4]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Fae manipulation, M/M, emotional abuse cw, violence cw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-22 19:23:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 36,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3740677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chailattemusings/pseuds/chailattemusings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will has become Kirin’s consort, but the new title is more than just that. He wakes up after solstice with a collar of vines and leaves around his throat and too many questions that Kirin refuses to answer. Green magic is slowly winding around Will's city powers and Kirin holds all the cards behind his back.</p><p>It's time Will finds out the answers for himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Will woke up on the day after the winter solstice and reflexively reached out, grasping for something that wasn't there.

Kirin had left the night before, and no one greeted Will that morning.

He sighed and stretched, sitting up. Will blinked slowly, running over the previous evening in his mind. Kirin had arrived at their house, his glamour dropped and the anger dripping off his shoulders like melting snow, and Will had moved them outside to speak privately before Xephos could cast any sort of spell.

Kirin had praised Will and called him a consort. _His_ consort.

Will bit his lip, glancing out the window of his attic bedroom. He'd heard the word before, had listened to Xephos and Honeydew talking late at night when they thought he and Lalna had gone to bed, about their worries for Will, what they thought would happen if they let him keep working for Kirin. They had no books on fae, and the only words Will could ever find online were whispers, rumors, no human daring to accuse fae of anything even in a digital format. The word 'consort' implied a lot of things, but nothing Will could be sure of.

He swung his legs off the bed and stood, pulling his arms to stretch them again. The first thing to do would be to ask Kirin about being a consort and what it meant. But Xephos had nearly had a heart attack, seeing Kirin on his doorstep. Will wouldn't risk upsetting him again before Christmas; he could stay indoors and think about things before acting rashly, and keep Xephos happy until the holidays were over.

Will went downstairs in his pajamas and slippers, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He hadn't slept well after Kirin had come, and the sun had been shining bright outside his window when he woke. Everyone else was probably up already.

He slipped inside the bathroom and locked the door, looking in the mirror to see just how bad the circles under his eyes were, and if he could do anything to clean himself up and keep Xephos from nagging him about his health.

What Will saw made his eyes go wide and his breathing stop.

Around his neck, tangled in vibrant greens and writhing tendrils, was a collar.

A collar made of vines. It was coiled around his neck in thick layers, wrapped over the skin at least half a dozen times. Will's hands went to his neck automatically, feeling for it, and what hope he had of it being an illusion went out the window. His fingers brushed over the vines, as solid and tangible as Will's own skin, and an end of one vine met his hand in turn, curling over the finger.

A burst of sour chlorophyll and sunlight hit him, the bright magic exploding from the collar and up, inward, choking down his lungs and coating his body in a thin layer, wrapping tight over him. Will blinked, forcing himself to take a deep breath. The feeling dimmed, but clung to him. Green and life leaked from the edges of the collar, lingering over him like a storm cloud, clustered over his hand where he touched the vines.

He clenched his fingers and tried to get underneath the edge, to pull at the vines and break them away, but they held fast, strong. Will’s scratches and tugs left no marks, and the magic of the collar pushed against his own, twining around it and refusing to move. It was stuck fast.

Will backed up, his knees hitting the bathtub. His breaths came in quick, hard pants. He thought of last year, just after Christmas, to the ring made of antler bone that he'd placed on his finger, unable to remove it on his own. Magic, put there without his permission and with no way to take it off.

With trembling hands, Will turned to the bathroom door and left. He couldn't take it off, at least not with unsteady breaths and his body quivering, but he knew someone who could try.

Xephos was in the living room, sipping a cup of tea, a newspaper in his hands. Will could hear Lalna and Honeydew talking in the kitchen, and the smell of scones wafted through the doorway. He swallowed and ignored the light growl of his stomach. Resisting the urge to touch the collar again, he approached Xephos slowly. “Um,” he said, and licked his lips. “Xephos?”

Looking up, Xephos blinked a few times, eyebrows raised. “Oh.” His voice was calm, but his face hardened the longer he looked at Will. “So you're up. I suppose your night with Kirin tired you out.”

Will paled and turned away. He and Kirin had only spoken for a few minutes the night before, long enough for Kirin to tell him about being a consort, but Xephos hadn't looked at him when Will came back inside the house and Kirin had gone down the street, back home. It was Will who had let Kirin inside their house. Who had upset Xephos.

“Look,” he said, fingers tense at his sides, “let's not focus on that, okay? I– I have a problem.” He waited until Xephos looked up again, his eyebrow quirked. Will gestured to his neck helplessly, swallowing and feeling the collar shift against his skin with the motion.

Xephos pursed his lips, staring for a long minute, and said, “Something wrong with your neck?”

“Uh.” Will blinked. “Yes?” The collar almost burned with the thickness of the magic around him. It wasn't as if Will didn't know how much Kirin's magic permeated his body already, but the collar _had_ to raise an alarm.

Xephos stood up and sighed. “I don't have time for this,” he said, walking past Will. “If your throat is sore or something, take some medicine. You can take care of yourself, can't you?”

Will turned and watched Xephos go into the kitchen, meeting Honeydew where he stood in front of the oven and kissing the top of his head. He didn't look at Will again, opening the fridge and rummaging for something.

He hadn't so much as glanced at the collar. Will could feel the thin tendrils under his fingers, could taste the magic at the back of his throat, but Xephos couldn't see it. Xephos, one of the most skilled witches in the entire city, was blind to it.

If Will had gotten the collar after agreeing to be Kirin's consort, but no one else could see it, then what the hell was going on?

Will didn't waste time saying goodbye or even changing from his pyjamas. He went to the front hall, taking his coat and slipping his boots on with trembling fingers. His heart beat fast in his ribcage, pulsing hard in his throat where the collar wound tight. He stepped out into the cold, running over the porch steps and down the sidewalk. They might have heard him leave, but Will needed answers, and no one in his family would be able to give him any.

The bus ride was longer than he liked, the wheels rolling slowly over streets dusted with snow, only two other people on the bus. Christmas was coming upon them and in a couple days, public transportation would be flooded with bodies cramming themselves in buses and on trains, trying to get home before the holidays, but now, it was just a sleepy day in the week before Christmas and no one wanted to go out unless they really, truly had to.

Will avoided making eye contact with the two women on the bus when he got on, one old and holding a bag stuffed to the brim with knitting yarn, the other middle-aged with circles under her eyes. They both perked up when he boarded, probably because he was the only subject of interest at the moment. Sitting down, Will brushed his fingers over the collar, how tight it felt on his skin, but the two women made no mention of it.

At the shop, the lights were out, the door locked. Will stared at the front window for a long moment, trying to peek inside. There was no movement, no sign of Kirin's presence, and even in Kirin's house next door, everything was black. Will, in his panic, had left behind the spare shop key Kirin had given him ages ago.

He wouldn't go home, not when he had come for answers. Will wouldn't let himself putter around his house with a collar over his neck like nothing was wrong.

Turning to face the street and lean his back on the door, Will looked through the window of the building next door, a candle shop, and stole some of the light from the sign glowing through the windows. It passed easily under the gap in the doorway, and Will cupped it in his hands, holding the bubble of brilliant white close enough to keep his skin warm.

Kirin had to come back eventually, didn’t he?

Will regretted not thinking his plan through almost immediately. He had no key and couldn't wait in the shop, he hadn't brought his phone to call Kirin, and he had nothing to do to kill time. People passed by on the street, picking up late morning coffees or doing errands, walking under the wreaths hung on street lamps by local government committees in order to make the city look festive. Snow fell, too light and powdery to stick to anything for long, and a gentle wind burrowed its way under Will's collar, soaking down his spine. Will shivered and held the light closer, almost letting it burn him as he tried to stay warm.

The collar kept itself known, coiling over Will's neck and brushing thin leaves under his jaw.

It must have been hours, Will sitting on the stoop of the shop with the light burning next to his skin, when Kirin finally came back.

Will looked up, blinking at the sunlight and shaking his head to dislodge what the light in his hands hadn't melted, snow falling off his head and around his shoulders. Kirin stood before him, hands in his pockets, lips pursed, brow furrowed. “Will?” he asked, tilting his head. “What are you doing here?”

His first instinct was to get up and move close to Kirin, to embrace him, and Will squashed it. The collar still clasped tight around his throat, restricting. “You know why I'm here,” he said, standing up, his eyes narrowed. He brought a hand up, pointing at the collar.

Kirin sighed, and nodded. “Very well. Come inside, let's have some tea.”

The shop was closed, the days too close to Christmas and the city still resting from the chaos of the solstice. Kirin led them to the front door of his duplex home, letting them inside the small hallway that connected to the shop via a thin door.

Will couldn't believe it was only the night before that he'd gone out and planted the antler birches. It felt like the long night had been ages ago. He rubbed his hands together and followed Kirin inside his house, releasing his bubble of stolen light to flitter back to the street and the building it had come from.

Kirin guided him to the kitchen, taking Will's coat and starting a pot of water on his stove. Will hoisted himself on the counter, too irritated to bother fiddling with the kitchen chairs that were too tall for him. “So,” he said, watching Kirin pull out tins of loose tea, “what exactly _is_ this?” He gestured at the collar again, though Kirin wasn't looking at him.

Humming in answer to Will's question, Kirin set out teacups and small infusers for the tea. A few long minutes stretched between them as Kirin measured out the leaves and put them inside the infusers, paying such careful attention that even Will could tell he was stalling.

“The collar,” Kirin said, looking at Will, his eyes bright, “is a manifestation of your debt. It shows that you belong to me, that you are my consort.”

Will stiffened. A debt. He'd insisted to Xephos on more than one occasion that he didn't _have_ a debt, though he'd felt Kirin's magic brushing over his neck and binding his ankles in the past. But it was Will's choice to be there; having a debt didn't matter.

“You don't need this, surely,” he said, his voice lower, hands tight where they gripped the edges of the counter. “I'm your consort. Why do I need your magic around my neck?”

Kirin smiled, picking up the now-whistling pot of hot water. He poured the tea and pushed the mugs away from the counter's edge, letting them steep, and walked close to Will. He stopped in front of Will's knees and put a hand on each, his thick fingers sending heat through Will's skin.

“Every faerie lays their claims,” Kirin said, leaning close, his breath brushing over Will's face. “The last thing I want is for you to be hurt, but magic is dangerous, and there are certain precautions to be taken. Consider the collar . . .” Kirin paused, and touched their foreheads, fingers kneading Will's thighs. “A form of insurance,” he finished, and laughed quietly. “I don't want to hurt you, through my own fault or anyone else's.”

Will sighed and moved into Kirin's touch, hands shifting to brush over Kirin's, his face warming with each puff of breath over his cheeks. “Okay,” he said, and swallowed, a feeling of distaste settling at the base of his gut. “I guess I understand.”

Kirin hummed again and rubbed his hands over Will's legs, soothing. Will spread his legs automatically, and Kirin stepped between them, bringing his hands up to rest at Will's waist and draw him closer. A slow heat boiled in the base of Will's belly, replacing the discomfort, and he reached up, hands coming around Kirin's neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

Spending hours waiting in the cold had frozen Will to the bone, and he was all too eager to let Kirin warm him up in the safety of his kitchen.

 

* * *

 

It was easy to forget about the collar when Kirin said soft words about keeping Will safe and laying a faerie's claim. Fae rules made no sense and Will didn't try to understand them. Returning home, though, it was hard to keep his mind off the vines wrapped around his neck. No one else could see them, but Will _felt_ them, and any second he expected someone to suddenly notice the thick green magic.

Xephos didn't raise an alarm, Honeydew never wrinkled his nose the way he did when he saw something suspicious, and Lalna didn't go suddenly wide eyed at the sight of Will coming home from his visit. All Will got was a speech about leaving the house without telling anyone, and Honeydew's insistence that he help set up the Christmas tree. Will tried to forget the vines around his neck, though they tightened and loosened in turns and brushed thick leaves over his skin, almost soft on the surface but with too much force behind their touches.

On Christmas Eve, Ross visited. He was always adamant about spending enough time with his court, but he couldn't resist homemade biscuits and the praise he got when he helped Xephos prepare dinner. Ross had been around for several different holidays, but Christmas was clearly a favorite, judging by the way he bounced around the kitchen, threatening to knock over appliances and food with his heavy stone body.

Will smiled from his seat on one of the kitchen chairs, staying far away from the stove. Xephos was chopping onions and Honeydew was kneading dough with Ross. Will switched between watching them and reading about local gardens on his phone.

The collar, its vines ever moving, occasionally squeezed around his neck, as though he would forget how much they unsettled him. Will tried his best not to touch it too much.

“So, Will,” Ross said, glancing up from the dough. Will hummed and put his phone down. Ross smiled briefly and looked down at his hands again. “I've been seeing some new plants around the city lately, which is a little . . . _odd_ , considering it's winter. Caught a little leaflet poking out from the sidewalk by my house the other day.”

Will couldn't help beaming. “It's probably a little evergreen. Plants can survive in just about any weather.” Kirin had taught him that, that plants were hardy and adaptable, and if you let them, they could flourish despite cold and rain and terrible conditions, even in places like the tundra or the desert.

Ross pursed his lips, hands paused over the dough. “It didn't really look like an evergreen,” he mumbled. Turning to Will, he said, “I thought you might know something about it, but . . .” He sighed, shaking his head. “And since when are you so _happy_ talking about plants?”

Will's face heated, and he shrugged, ducking his face down. “I work for Kirin, you know? Gotta develop an interest at some point.”

Xephos stopped his chopping. Will looked up, but Xephos was glaring at the cutting board, the knife held between tense fingers.

“I'm gonna–” Will swallowed, sliding off his chair. “I'll go.”

“Oi!” Honeydew stood with hands on his hips, dough and flour staining his pants. His cheeks flamed red, eyebrows drawn tight together. “This is family time, you don't get to leave.”

Will looked between him and Xephos, his throat going tight. “But–”

“No buts,” Honeydew growled, fingers clenched on his hip. He turned to look at Ross. “Tell me, Ross, how are your buddies doing?”

Ross fidgeted at Honeydew's gaze falling on him so suddenly. He didn't speak of his court often when at Xephos' house, preferring to stay on neutral topics. But it was the lesser of two evils where Xephos was concerned. Will watched Xephos return to chopping, and Ross said, “They're fine. A bit grumpy with the cold.”

Honeydew pushed them away from thoughts of Kirin and plants with discussion of the food and what Ross’ holiday plans were. Will settled against one wall, his hands in his jeans pockets. Ross glanced at him a few times, and Will thought his eyes might have lingered a little too long on his neck. He said nothing, though, and Will stayed silent while they finished cooking.

 

* * *

 

The holidays passed without much event. They shared presents and good food. Xephos put a cap on his sour mood, and Will avoided any mention of Kirin even as the collar squeezed so tight he sometimes wondered how nobody else could see bruises. Ross popped in for an hour and stole some biscuits to take home, and Lomadia and Nilesy stopped in the afternoon to exchange gifts and share a cup of tea.

Will had expected someone to mention the antler birches by now. Whether they talked about a shift in the magic of the city or the strange new birch trees that had suddenly cropped up, he'd thought he would hear about it. Ross' court should have noticed the new anchor in their territory, and Nilesy _must_ have seen the new orchard in the park near his home.

But no one said a thing. Christmas passed and though Will's chest twisted painfully when Xephos refused to meet his eyes, no one asked about his night working for Kirin on the solstice. Will went to bed and pulled the cracked pieces of the final antler out from where he'd put them in his footlocker, stuck inside their makeshift bag that had replaced the stolen leather pouch, and spent a good while staring at the three neat chunks.

Somehow, not being asked was worse than being confronted.

His work didn't start again until after the new year, and in January, Kirin started bringing Will into the greenhouses.

He walked into work on his first day back, shivering from the cold and breathing in as much of the warm shop air as he could.

“William?”

Kirin's voice drifted from the back of the shop, and Will looked up to see him at the back door, his head poked into the shop. Kirin stepped fully inside and walked over, smiling. “Will,” he said, stopping just in front of him. “I have plans for today.”

Will paused in putting his jacket over the chair behind the counter. “Like what?” he asked, glancing at the shop door. If Kirin had plans, it either meant he didn't expect customers or that he was going to close for the day. “I don't want to interrupt business.”

“Nonsense.” Kirin reached out, taking him by the elbow. “We'll hear the bell if a customer comes. Follow me, I want to show you a few things.”

“I– okay,” Will said, nearly falling when Kirin tugged him towards the back door. The collar tightened over his neck and Will's free hand flew to it, digging into the vines. Kirin's magic washed over him, emanating from his body and falling onto Will, and the collar tugged at Will's neck, twisting towards Kirin like a flower grew towards the sun. Will kept his fingers on it, stumbling after Kirin to the greenhouses.

Kirin pulled them into the greenhouse where they kept the flowers and they stopped inside the door. Will's cheeks had gone red again from the brief moment outside, and he shook himself, pushing the cold off his shoulders and soaking in the electric heat of the greenhouse. “Kirin?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Turning to face him, Kirin grinned. “You are my consort,” he said, quiet, affirming.

Will swallowed. “Uh, yes. That's why I'm wearing this.” He gestured to the collar.

“But being my consort is more than just wearing a pretty collar.” Kirin stepped close, cupping Will's elbows in his hands and drawing him close. Will's breath hitched, his heartbeat picking up speed. Any affection he received from Kirin was enough to send his mind reeling, so close to his magic, his warmth, and the scent of the forest all at once.

“More?” Will prodded, pulling himself out of his own head, lest he get lost.

Kirin leaned down and nuzzled his nose across Will's hairline, breathing gently. “As my consort, it is your duty to learn my magic and be able to take hold of it. You have done so well, planting my birches and helping in the shop. Now it is time for you to learn what it truly means to use green magic.”

Shivers went down Will's spine at Kirin's soft touch, light kisses pressed into his hair. Kirin drew back, keeping his hold on Will, and walked backwards, leading them farther into the greenhouse to stand among the plastic tables that held rows upon rows of plants, hanging baskets of flowers and vines swinging over their heads.

“You must first learn to care for my plants,” Kirin said, meeting Will's eyes. “They are my children, and part of my domain. You must start,” he said, and dropped his hands, leaving Will to himself, “by touching them.” Kirin put a hand over a cyclamen flower, brushing the petals and holding the stem between his thumb and forefinger. “Feel the life and the magic,” he said, “and learn how to draw upon it for your own purposes.”

Will glanced down at the pots of flowers, sitting on the table at waist height. He'd used magic on plants before, but always small spells; putting bits of life back into dying leaves or encouraging flowers to bloom more quickly. Kirin fed off their magic and gave his own in return, a cycle of power that kept him and his plants alive, strong. Will had no idea where he fit in that cycle.

Tentatively, he touched another cyclamen, feeling the silk soft petals, the smooth stem. Cyclamens bloomed best in the winter, with heart shaped leaves, and these were a bright pink. The moment he touched it, he could feel its magic, bursting outward like a firework under his fingers. It flowed over his palm and wrist. The collar tightened, and Will tried to rear back, to claw at the vines.

But Kirin's hand fell on his back, and Will stopped, looking at him.

“Do not let it overwhelm you,” he said, his other hand covering Will's to hold it over the flower. “I have seen you work with green magic. Don't think about how the life will fight with your city magic. Think of how _full_ it is, and how much it wants to share its life with you.” He bumped their foreheads together, a light touch that grounded Will. Kirin's magic poked at the edges of his mind, loosening the collar to a comfortable hold on his neck, tracing over his feet where they met the moss floor.

“It's a flower,” Will mumbled, looking down at the cyclamen. “It wants to propagate, not share its magic with a human.”

“It wants to _survive_ ,” Kirin said, his hand pressing hard on Will's back, pushing him closer to the table. “And it will know that you are here to see it flourish, if you meet the magic with your own and embrace it. I know you can do it, Will.”

Pursing his lips, Will tried again, reaching out, petting over the leaves and letting his magic drip down his arm to meet the life and magic of the flower under his palm.

It surged up, and slowed, curling over itself and rising under Will's hand, coiling like a cat poised to run underneath his fingers. Will's breath hitched, and he relaxed, coaxing his city magic to bend around the green and cradle it, holding it like a butterfly that could escape at any moment.

Kirin's hand slid down, cupping Will's free hand, grasping it. The touch was hard, his skin rough, and Will nearly lost his hold on the green magic with how hard Kirin held his hand, like he thought Will might slip away from him.

He pulled his hand back and turned to Kirin, blinking. “Was that–” He stopped and licked his lips. “I felt it,” he said instead, and looked at the cyclamens. “It was friendly.”

“See?” Kirin smiled, grabbing Will's hand again to squeeze it even tighter, and let go. “Grab that watering can over there, will you? I'll teach you a few things about the plants.” He turned, looking over the tables.

Will took the watering can that sat by the wall, following Kirin down the rows of pots and hanging baskets.

 

* * *

 

After work, Will went for a walk.

Xephos didn't like him coming home too late, but he also hadn't really been speaking to Will since the night of solstice. Will shoved his hands in his coat pockets and walked down the busy city street, unsure of where he was going but certain that it wouldn't be towards home, not for a while.

Kirin had spent the day showing him the greenhouses, leaving Will by himself when the bell rang on the shop door. Will had felt the magic of the plants, how it greedily drank in the light of the greenhouse and met his soft touches with coiled magic, leaves and vines ready to grow up and around anything they came into contact with.

With Kirin at his side, the magic hadn’t overwhelmed Will like it usually did. Instead, it had felt more like his city magic, something that slipped comfortably under his skin and sent shocks of life down his spine.

All the green had collected and choked his lungs, and when Will finally left work for the day, he needed to feel like himself again. He walked down the streets and reached out to every light bulb in the lamps, every chiming bicycle, every roaring car engine, breathing in the exhaust and exhaling the chlorophyll that had seeped into his body.

He touched the buildings as he passed them; he felt the spark of life there, the touches like paint streaks on the outside that leaked past doors and windows. There was solid concrete and fizzing electric lights, the voices of a thousand customers collected in their depths like a ghostly imprint. Deeper, underneath the stone and wood, were the roots, the earth, the pulsing network of plants crowding for space, refusing to be crushed by modern life.

Will drew back from the walls, keeping to the middle of the sidewalk, and looked up. He'd come to a small park.

One of the parks he'd planted the birch trees in.

There were three of them, spaced out among the other trees. The park itself was small. Will peered around, avoiding the other people on the sidewalk. Night had fallen, no traces of sunset left, and many of the shops on the street were starting to turn out their lights, closing early for the cold winter evenings.

Will checked his watch. Somehow he'd been wandering for three hours, wrapped up in the city and its late night glow. He looked up at the park again. It was bordered only by a small sidewalk that curved into a cobblestone path as it led over the grass, between the trees. He could see one of the birches where he stood, and felt the others, their bright magic tingling around the dull cover of the rest of the park.

Crossing the street and walking into the park at a brisk pace, Will found the first birch and stopped in front of it, his breath leaving his mouth in white puffs of air.

They'd matured within days. Little more than a week since Christmas and the birch was already close to fully grown, only a few feet shorter than the other trees around it, its branches long and gangly, spreading out and up. The pale bark of its sapling trunk had brightened to brilliant white, crystalline blue streaked through it.

No one had raised an alarm. No one had whispered about the sudden growth of birch trees where before there had been none. They were either too scared of the obvious magic or too busy with their own lives to care.

Will reached out, putting his bare hand on the bark of the tree, and closed his eyes. Magic jumped under his fingers, and his lips parted, breathing hard. He could feel Kirin's green magic piled inside the trunk and running up to the branches, curling into the air and cascading over the area, covering the park and the streets beyond.

Kirin's magic was like a blanket, laying over the city, shielding it from the outside world. Will stepped closer to the tree and put his forehead on the bark, feeling out the edges. He'd known Kirin's magic would spread with the planting of the birches, but he hadn't felt it for himself, not yet. Kirin had spent hours that morning teaching him how to feel out green magic without losing himself; now was as good a time as any to try it out.

Will centered himself, anchoring his body to the ground below his shoes, Kirin's debt wrapped tight over his ankles and squeezing his neck. He focused on it, letting it hold him as he explored the reaches of the birch trees in the city.

They connected like a map, corners that touched one another over streets and buildings. One tree's magic ran over cars and roofs until it crashed into the magic of another tree, and they spread out that way, covering the city like a forest’s canopy of green magic and invisible branches stretched wide across the streets.

Will frowned. There was a spot, small, different from the coat of Kirin's magic. It flickered, something biting at the edges between where two trees met, something _wrong_ , and he pushed his own city magic out from his fingertips, seeking it out.

A sharp ringing cut through the air. Will jumped, gasping, and all at once the magic left him. He lost sight of the blanket over the city, of the sharp magic of the birches, and when he breathed, he tasted exhaust and puddles stained with oil, fresh snow falling down, and the quick breaths of the people wandering on a late night.

The sound was his phone. Will spent a moment blinking at the birch tree, and reached in his pocket. Xephos' name lit up the screen. Will rolled his eyes and held the phone up to his ear, saying, “Hello?”

“Will!” Xephos snapped, and paused. “Where have you been? It's almost eight.”

“I took a walk,” Will said, glancing at the tree one last time and turning around, leaving the park. “Is that not allowed?”

A huff of breath through the phone, and then, “The last time you told me that you took a walk, you came home with antlers stuffed in a pouch.”

“It was just a walk this time.” Will looked up and down the street, saw no bus station, and closed his eyes again. It only took a moment of searching the streets, his magic rushing through the asphalt and running under the sidewalks like electric cables, to determine what direction home was. He started walking.

“How am I supposed to know that?” Xephos asked, his tone harsh.

“Look,” Will said, sighing. “I'm coming home now. That's what matters, right?”

Another pause. “Dinner will be cold,” he said, and hung up.

Will slid his phone back in his pocket, shoulders slumped. The first time Xephos had spoken to him directly since solstice, and it was to yell at him. His brow furrowed, and Will stared at his own feet on the sidewalk, trusting his magic to guide him home.

 

* * *

 

Xephos gave him a curfew.

They had a fight. Xephos had done a lot of shouting at him and Will had stared petulantly at the floor. Honeydew had tried and failed to mediate, and it ended with Will stomping upstairs while Xephos yelled up at him that he wasn't to stay out past six.

Will tapped his pen on the shop counter, glancing at the clock above the door. Getting off at five and being home by six gave him approximately a half hour to do nothing of substance. Xephos had made it impossible for Will to do something as simple as go out for dinner without raising his suspicions.

He was a fully grown adult and didn't _need_ a curfew, but Will didn't doubt Xephos' motivation to put some form of spell on him if he didn't listen.

At five, Will stood and stretched, putting the logbook away and cleaning up his things. He put his coat on, ready to go to the greenhouse and tell Kirin he was leaving, and the back door opened. Kirin stepped in, cheeks flush from the brief stint in the cold. “Going so soon?” he asked, laughing and meeting Will at the counter.

Will tried to smile, shrugging. “I would help clean up, but Xephos has me practically under house arrest now.”

Kirin hummed, stepping close. “Is that so?” he said, bringing a hand up to trace over Will's jaw. “Speaking of your uncle.” Kirin's eyes narrowed. “Did something happen the night of the solstice?”

Will stiffened, and swallowed. “N-No, I planted the birches and went home.”

“I only ask because,” Kirin said, stepping back from Will, his hand trailing down his neck and over his chest, “I can feel that something is wrong with the birches' magic. There's something missing.” He met Will's eyes, brow furrowed. “Was there an incident with Xephos, perhaps?”

Will looked up, breathing fast, hands clenched into fists at his side. He'd been too afraid to tell Kirin what had happened, squirreling away the broken antler shards in his room. Kirin hadn't mentioned anything when he'd come to visit the next day, and despite being distracted with the collar, Will had assumed it was fine.

He trembled, unwilling to look Kirin in the eye.

“William,” Kirin purred, tucking his hand under Will's chin, forcing his head up. “What happened on the night of solstice?”

His lip quivered, and Will almost closed his eyes, but he couldn't look away when Kirin stared at him like that. He sucked in a harsh breath, steadying his voice as best he could, and said, “Xephos broke it.”

Kirin raised a brow. “Broke it?”

“He broke the antler,” Will said, shoulders slumping. “I didn't plant them all, I had one left when I got home. I thought– I thought it would be okay. But then I got inside and Xephos caught me, and he– he–” Will bit his lip until pain zinged through the skin, and yelled, “I'm sorry, okay?! I didn't mean to fuck it up!”

“Shh.” Kirin leaned in, pressing their foreheads together. “Will, hush, don't worry.” He grabbed Will around the shoulders and drew him close, pressing their bodies together, his hands settling heavily on Will's back, one rubbing up and down while the other kept him anchored.

A few minutes passed in silence.

“It's all right,” Kirin said, his hands stilling, brushing his nose over the top of Will's hair and breathing gently, tickling the skin. “Follow me, Will.”

He drew back, and Will obeyed, walking with him to the back of the shop. Kirin stopped in front of a shelf and grabbed a bag. It was a new product, organic chocolates, mint flavored. Kirin had made them just after Christmas and tied them up in pretty brown bags, using his own mint plants to flavor them. They were a popular new item.

“Here,” he said, and pushed a bag at Will. “Give these to your uncle. I never had the chance to properly apologize for coming to his house over the holidays.”

“W-Wait.” Will took the bag, holding it gingerly between his fingertips. “Kirin, Xephos won't take food from a faerie. And that doesn't really relate to the issue at hand–”

“Will,” Kirin said, putting a finger over his lips. His tilted his head down, leaning close, their noses nearly touching. “You broke one of my antler pieces. You’ll make up for this by giving those chocolates to your uncle and passing on my apology. Understood?”

Swallowing, Will shook his head, dislodging Kirin's finger. “He won't take them.”

“Try,” Kirin said, and rubbed a hand through Will's hair, ruffling it. “For me. As my consort.”

Consort. It had only been a week and a half since Will had first heard that word and nearly drowned in the city with his joy. “You never told me what that means,” he said, his voice low. He fiddled with the top of the chocolate bag.

“It means,” Kirin said, kissing his forehead, “that you will do as I ask to further my goals. And for now my goal is to instill some trust of me in your uncle. Give him the chocolates, Will, and tell him that I apologize.”

Will brushed his thumb over the bag and tightened his grip. “Okay,” he said, and swallowed. “Okay,” he repeated, louder. He turned his face up to meet Kirin's gaze. “And– and the antler?”

“Already forgiven,” Kirin said, putting both hands on Will's cheeks and drawing him in, pecking a gentle kiss to his lips. “You are a wonderful consort, Will. Do not doubt yourself, and never feel like you have to hide things from me.”

Will blushed and nodded. The chocolates jostled in the bag, and he tucked it close to his chest to silence the noise.

  

* * *

 

Xephos was in the living room. Will closed the front door behind him, turning away from the living room doorway, where he could see the trail of Xephos' long sweater sleeves over the ends of the couch. He took off his coat and boots, clutching the bag of chocolates tight in one hand. “Hi,” he said, passing through the living room, pausing in front of the couch.

Glancing up from his reading, Xephos said, “Welcome home, Will.”

Swallowing, Will opened his mouth and closed it. He shook his head and turned, going to the kitchen, and set the bag down on the counter. The chocolates shook inside, thumping dully. Will blinked, staring at them a moment, and sighed. Kirin had asked him to apologize to Xephos.

If Will so much as mentioned Kirin's name, Xephos would treat him as even _more_ of a pariah.

He brought his backpack upstairs, ignoring Kirin's words repeating in his mind. He unpacked his bag, dumping out a couple magazines and the spare gloves he hadn't worn, kicking the empty bag under the bed. Will crossed his arms and huffed, glancing at the attic stairs.

Xephos could eat all the damn chocolate he wanted, even if it was from a faerie.

Food. From a faerie.

Will's eyes went wide.

He rushed down the stairs, slipping and catching himself on one of the steps. Will panted and stood, ignoring the new throb in his hip, and ran downstairs, swinging around the living room doorway and through it to the kitchen beyond. “Xephos!”

Xephos looked up, blinking. There were chocolate smears on his lips, a half eaten square of chocolate held between his fingers. His eyebrows went up, and he swallowed. “Will?” he asked, brow furrowing. “Is something wrong?”

“The–” Will looked between Xephos and his hand, and the open bag of chocolate on the counter. “The chocolate,” he finished weakly, leaning on the kitchen table with his hip, one hand on the surface to support his weight. He winced at the pain that shot up his side when he leaned precisely where he’d bruised himself on the stairs.

“Was I . . . not supposed to have any?” Xephos glanced at the bag. “You put it in the kitchen, I assumed it was for everyone.”

“No, it's–” Will shook his head, unable to find the words. He couldn't tell Xephos that he'd just eaten food from a _faerie_. “Sorry,” he said instead, looking up. “Sorry for . . . a lot of things.”

Xephos breathed out hard, and put the unfinished chocolate piece on the counter. “I'm sorry too,” he murmured. “I appreciate you keeping curfew tonight.”

“Yeah.” Will wrapped both arms around himself, turning away.

With a sigh, Xephos pulled him into a hug. One hand petted through Will's hair and the other rubbed down his side. “It's for your own good,” he said, head pressed to the side of Will's. He kissed Will's temple. “Let's all calm down from solstice and Christmas and we'll see what happens, all right?”

“Sure,” Will mumbled into his shoulder, dropping his arms to his side. Xephos squeezed him, once, and let go, giving him a weak smile. Will tried his best to return it.

Xephos patted him on the shoulder, passing him to return to his reading in the living room. Will waited until he’d settled, the couch creaking beneath his weight, and marched across the kitchen. He grabbed the chocolates and slammed his foot on the trash can's pedal, opening the lid and throwing the bag inside. “Damn it,” he whispered, and flinched at how loud it was in the empty kitchen.

“You okay?” Xephos called from the living room.

Will pursed his lips, and said, “Yeah. Just . . . just fine.”

He leaned on the counter, hands tight over the edges, knuckles turning white. The half-eaten chocolate square still sat forgotten on the counter, next to their cutting board. Will frowned and flicked it into the trash disposal, flipping the switch by the sink and watching the chunks of mint-flavored treat go down the drain.

 

* * *

 

Kirin refrained from going into details about being a consort, but he had told Will that part of the job was serving Kirin to help his magic.

Evidently that included trivial chores, and so, Will found himself wandering the city in the middle of February with a list from Kirin, scouting out new products that could be used in the shop and writing down anything interesting for ideas. Everyone in the city with the money to afford it liked to pride themselves on buying natural and organic goods, and Kirin took full advantage, bartering with craftspeople in the city for good deals and seeking out products that he could try making himself.

To Will's irritation, the first batch of chocolates had sold well; he made sure there was no additional food on the list Kirin gave him when he went out to search for supplies.

There was an ‘all natural’ shop downtown that liked to boast about its herb remedies. Will stopped inside, brushing off the cold, and started looking through their meager selection. Not a lot could be said about the plain glass bottles stopped with corks, their homemade labels peeling off. He held one with what looked like green sludge inside it, peering at the list of ingredients written in scratchy letters.

The front door opened, and Will wouldn't have cared, except for the startled, “Oh!” that came from his left. He turned to see none other than Nano's Lana standing at the front of the shop.

“Uh,” Will said, and straightened. “Hi, there, Lalna.”

Lalna fidgeted, eyebrows furrowed, glancing at somewhere below Will's face and back up. He walked closer, running a hand through his hair. “Nice to see you,” he said, his tone flat, chewing on his bottom lip.

Will swallowed to choke down any nerves. Meeting with Nano's Lalna never went well, considering who Will lived with, and he did his best to smile. “What are you doing here?” he asked, and held a hand up to gesture vaguely at the shop around them. “This doesn't exactly seem like your type of place.”

“Yeah, uh . . .” Lalna scratched at his chin. “Nano wants some decorations for her tree, I figured I ought to try some new places for trinkets.” He glanced down again and turned, looking at the hanging decorations on the wall. “Are you–” He hesitated. “Are you doing all right?”

Eyes narrowed, Will leaned back a little and said, “Yeah, why?”

“No reason, just–” Lalna shook his head and looked at Will again. He stared a moment too long, his eyes a bit too wide, and his hands clenched at his sides. “You've been with Kirin,” he said finally, sighing. “Are you doing well with him?”

Will stepped back and crossed his arms. “Of course, why wouldn't I be?”

Lalna shrugged, shifting, moving away from Will. “Just be careful, all right?” His eyes flicked down again, and he walked past Will, deeper into the shop. “Have a good day, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Will said, not looking at him. The collar squeezed his neck, and he breathed out harshly, lips twisted in a frown.

After the awkward encounter with Lalna, Will spent another few hours scouting around town. He bought a few products on Kirin's dime for him to look at and wrote down information about things he thought interesting or innovative. By the time Will started back for the shop, he had a long list and a bag of goodies, catching the first bus back to Kirin's neighborhood.

Kirin was at the front counter, writing in the logbook. He looked up when the door opened and smiled at Will, putting his chin in his palm and leaning over the counter. “Will,” he said, teeth flashing in his grin. “How was your outing?”

“Productive,” Will said, walking behind the counter to set his shopping bag down and pull off his coat. “I saw a lot of stuff that might be good for us, and a few things that don't quite fit, but I wrote them down anyway. Better to be thorough than not.”

“Indeed,” Kirin said, reaching out and grabbing Will's arm. Will yelped, and relaxed against Kirin, his breath rushing out of him. “My dutiful consort,” Kirin purred, running a hand through Will's hair.

“It was just errands,” Will said, but took the easy affection anyway, breathing in the scent of freshly fallen leaves, feeling the edges of Kirin's magic seeping over him. “How has business been?”

“Slow,” Kirin said, resting his chin on the top of Will's head. “The winter months are never good.”

“Yeah.” Will buried his nose deeper into Kirin's chest, hands coming up to wrap around his back.

Will wasn't sure how long they spent like that, but Kirin drew back eventually. He looked down at Will, the corners of his lips tilted up. “How about I show you something?” he whispered, full of eagerness and a mirth that both excited Will and set his heartbeat going fast, wary of what Kirin wanted to do.

“What?” he asked, though he knew it was pointless. Kirin only grinned again, stepping back to slide his hand over Will's wrist and draw him away from the counter, to the back of the shop, where the shelves were filled with winter plants and natural salves. The front door was barely visible beyond the garden decorations piled high on the tables in the center of the room, leaving them secluded.

“I want to help your city magic,” Kirin said, looking down to meet Will's eyes. “You are my consort now. I know you're powerful, and as your sidhe lord, it is my duty to ensure that your power grows to its fullest potential.” He grabbed Will's hands in his own, running his thumb over the knuckles.

Will's fingers clenched around Kirin's, and he swallowed. “How do you plan to do that?” The words barely managed to make it out of his mouth, his attention focused on Kirin and the gentle hold on his fingers. Despite how often Kirin showed him affection now, much more open since Will had agreed to be his consort, he rarely held Will's hands like this. The warm touch zinged through his fingers, up his arms, and made Will shiver with it. He did his best to suppress the reaction, still staring at Kirin.

Kirin's eyes fell half lidded, his smile lazy. “I can see the green magic around you,” he murmured, tracing his gaze up and down Will's body, back to his face. “You are doing your best, to work both city and green together. They dance over your form and never quite settle down. I love to watch it.”

Will flushed, ducking his head. “I'm only doing what you told me.”

Kirin laughed, loud, the sound rolling over Will and sending another shiver down his spine. “Don't sell yourself short,” he chided, squeezing Will's hands. “Just let me work, and I will show you what it is like, to understand city and green at the same time.”

Looking up, Will saw that Kirin had closed his eyes, lips slightly parted, and he felt the first stings of magic around the edges of his mind, pulling him forward. It drummed up Will's legs and skittered over his calves, thrumming around his waist and wrapping tight over his ribs, burrowing under his skin. His breath hitched, his grip tight on Kirin's hands. His city magic, the siren song of buses and trains and foot traffic, rushed forth. The city's walls of concrete rose up around his mind and blocked him in, crashing down seconds later and then reforming, coming up in waves only to crash down again, never quite supported enough.

Will's eyes twisted shut, his breaths coming fast. Metal wound over his wrists and ankles, rat teeth and pigeon's wings scraped along his chest, the voices of thousands of people ringing in his ears. And beneath it all, Kirin, his green presence, was digging under the city magic and reaching into it, curling his fingers over it the same way Will had dipped into Kirin's green and pulled pieces of it out for himself.

Except this _wasn't_ the same, because Will could feel Kirin's green magic bending to him, pliant and willing even if it didn't always follow his commands. It bowed under his touch and didn't protest when he touched it.

But the city dug its heels in against Kirin's grabbing touch, biting into the edges of Will's mind and growling, the vibrations of car engines and lightning through the telephone cables. The green magic wound around it, tying the magics together, tying it to Kirin, and Will saw two dark blue hands with claws prying the city magic off his skin, peeling it away. His collar pressed tight on his neck and Will could feel his city magic flowing away from him, replaced by the green of the shop and the plants seeping into his breaths.

The trade wasn't _fair_. Will's eyes opened and he yanked his hands back, visions of metal and concrete flying away, replaced by green and brown and Kirin, standing in front of him, his own eyes wide, hands held up defensively.

Will panted hard, flexing his fingers. He felt out, mapping his magic across the electricity and wind and felt it, his city magic, still there and still whole.

“What the _fuck_ ,” he spat, glaring at Kirin. “What– what the hell was _that_?” He sputtered over his words, lips unable to form proper syllables, and he spent a long minute just getting his breath back into his lungs.

Kirin made a placating noise, coming closer. “Will,” he cooed, reaching out.

Will jerked back. “That was wrong,” he said, speaking quickly, eager to get the words out before Kirin could spout some platitude at him. “You _took_ it. What the hell, Kirin? You have no right to invade my magic like that.”

Hands falling to his sides, Kirin shook his head, and he had the gall to laugh, a chuckle rolling through his shoulders and down his frame. “William,” he said, like Will was a pet who'd just done a cute trick. “I'm not allowed into your city magic?” he echoed, and stepped closer, filling the space between them. He raised a hand, and this time Will didn't flinch, letting it settle under his jaw. “And just what,” Kirin whispered, “have you been doing with _my_ magic? What have you been doing for the past year, William? Did you pluck a talent for green magic out of thin air?”

Swallowing, Will opened his mouth, but no words came out. He hadn't– It wasn't the _same_ –

Kirin looked at him, blue eyes shining, lips twisted up in a feral smile.

Will tore his head away and stalked past Kirin, growling under his breath. He pulled the logbook to him and snatched his purchases from the morning, dumping the bag to scatter them across the counter. He didn't look up to see if Kirin was watching, keeping his head turned away and writing down what he'd bought.

The back door of the shop opened with a quiet creak, and the shop was empty, leaving Will alone with a pencil held tight in his hands and the lingering cry of the city in his head.

 

* * *

 

Kirin's stunt had Will checking on the city for a week.

It was routine for him to stop upstairs and put his stuff away when he got home each night.Now, instead of going downstairs straight away, Will paused for a few minutes to sit on his bed. He felt out the edges of the city, praying for its safety and willing away the unwanted touches of green that filtered through his senses from his time in the shop. Kirin's magic had been fun and new and refreshing, but when Will felt the city around him, tasting exhaust and motor oil behind his tongue, he didn't want any more green magic than he could already see in Kirin's debts around the city.

Will sat on his bed yet again, just home from work. He closed his eyes to feel the city, how it moved under his hands, the constant movement and buzzing energy. He expected it to be like it always was, the magic of the people and the buildings and the cars, draped with a layer of Kirin's territorial magic from the birches. Will tensed and felt outwards, looking for any sign of Kirin dominating the city, trying to take it from him.

Instead, he felt a tight coil, on the far side of the city, and just as he brushed his magic outward, trying to grab it, the coil snapped. Like a piano wire drawn too tight, it broke, the edges whipping up and out, and Will screamed.

It smacked the base of his skull and surged into his lungs, a glass bottle breaking on the sidewalk, a door slamming, a car screeching on its brakes, energy wound up and up and up and then it all crashed, shattered into fragments.

Something had . . . torn.

Panic rose up, clenching around Will's heart and slamming against his ribs. His eyes flew open, and he pushed the panic down as quickly as he could. His eyes darted back and forth, seeing offices and homes rather than the worn wood of the attic walls, and he searched frantically, trying to find the source of the break in the city.

He found it, far away from his house, in the heart of the Garbage Court's territory. Where Ross lived.

There were other details, but Will's mind was working too fast, too many facts swirling in front of him and not enough time to process it all.

He forced himself to stand, his legs aching with the weight of briefcases and baby carriages and shopping bags, the weight taken with people at the end of a long day, and he stumbled down the attic stairs, nearly tripping on his way to the first floor of the house. He stopped inside the living room, breathing hard.

Xephos and Honeydew were on the couch, dozing quietly. They startled when Will came in. Xephos looked up at him, blinking. “Will?” His brow furrowed, and he sat up. “Will, what's wrong?”

“Ross,” Will said, and swallowed. His reached in his pocket, grabbing his phone and sliding the lock screen open. He tapped out a text message, throwing magic into the airwaves the moment he sent it, willing it to reach Ross' phone as quickly as possible.

Xephos sat up straighter. “What happened to Ross?”

“Something!” Will ran his hands through his hair, pulling at the strands. “I don't know, I felt it, something snapped in the magic, the city _broke_ , something happened in the center of the Garbage Court's territory–”

“Hey, hey.” Honeydew stood and grabbed Will's elbow, stopping him. Looking up to meet his eyes, he said, “Calm down, take a breath.”

Will struggled to listen, his mind buzzing with all the horrible possibilities.

Honeydew kept staring until Will took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Now,” he said, tugging Will over to the couch to sit him between himself and Xephos, “explain it to us.”

“I was–” Will hesitated. He couldn't say that he was checking on the city, worried about Kirin's magic after having his own magic torn into by sharp faerie teeth. “I was looking for problems in the city,” he settled on. “There was a lot of mischief last solstice, but I felt this– this _tear_ , like something ripped, and it happened right where Ross' house is.” His fingers curled over his knees, digging into his pant legs. “I don't know what happened.”

“All right, all right.” Honeydew rubbed down his back, fingers digging into the muscles. “I'm guessing you texted him just now?”

“Yes,” Will said, his voice weaker than he wanted it to be, and he turned to stare at the floor, reaching out to his phone to feel if any news had come in the few minutes he'd been talking, but there was nothing.

“Then we'll make tea and wait.” Honeydew looked over Will's shoulder, and Xephos stood, walking to the kitchen. Shortly, there was the sound of the electric kettle sitting on its heater and the flick of plastic buttons turning it on.

“He's . . . hurt,” Will said, licking his lips. The break in the magic had been enormous. Enough to disrupt him.

Either the Garbage Court or their home was in serious trouble.

“I have to help,” he said, looking at Honeydew.

Shaking his head, Honeydew said, “It's all the way across town. Wait for him to reply, all right? Have a cup of tea and we'll sit for a while. If nothing happens, you can use your magic again, try to find out a little more. Breathe,” he reminded him, and Will took in a deep breath, the shaking of his body lessening with it.

They sat on the couch when the tea was done, each with a mug in their hands. Footsteps rang over the stairs, and Lalna peeked his head in, curious about the commotion.

At the looks on all their faces, Lalna quickly settled on the armchair, and Will explained as best he could. He sent more text messages while he spoke, giving them each the same spell of speed to boost the phone's signal. He couldn't help tapping his foot on the floor, glancing at his phone every ten seconds.

He finished his tea and stood, pulling his phone out again. “I'm calling him,” he said, dialing Ross' phone and holding it up to his ear.

“Thirty minutes isn't a lot of time to wait,” Xephos said, putting his cup down on the coffee table. “Why don't you give it five more–”

A knock echoed through the house. Everyone in the room froze, and Will turned to the door. Magic sparked beyond the threshold, muffled. He closed his phone and rushed to the door, his family on his tail, and flung it wide open.

Ross. Along with the rest of the Garbage Court.

Behind Ross were Trott, Smith, and Sips, all four of them scratched, scuffed, and, with the exception of Ross and his gargoyle skin, heavily bruised. Sips had a black eye, chewing a cigarette between his teeth and fiddling with his baseball cap, a cloth crown sewn into the front. Smith had cuts down the sides of his face and neck, staring at the porch floor. Trott stood beside Smith and rubbed his shoulder soothingly, his eyes cutting Will a harsh look.

Ross glanced back at them, and at Will. His hoodie was torn, tail flicking anxiously back and forth. “I got your texts,” he said. “But we were kind of already on our way.”

Will's breath hitched, and he forced himself to breath again. “I felt danger,” he said, “something about the magic around your house, I thought . . .”

“House is gone,” Trott said, voice low and threatening, his hand tight on Smith's arm. “Buncha fucking trees came up, took it.”

“I'm sorry?” Honeydew peeked around Will, eyebrow raised.

Will swallowed, stepping in front of his family. “Ross,” he said, hands tight at his side. “Can you explain?”

Ross' eyes flicked down to his shoes and back up. “We were out,” he said. “Went to the movies, had some civilized fun for a change.”

Smith snorted behind him. Ross glared, and looked at Will. “When we came back, our house . . . it was torn up. Crushed, smashed, demolished. And it was surrounded by giant trees, curved all around where the condo used to be. They'd grown out of nowhere and squeezed it like a grape, ruined the entire thing.”

“We tried to get back inside,” Sips said, and gestured to his eye. “Smiffy damn near took my eye out, climbing up those branches. So yeah, we're kinda fucked.”

Will looked between all four of them, and back at his family. They watched warily. The Garbage Court had never had a good reputation with them, at least as a group. Sips used to be friends with Xephos, and Ross was welcome ever since he and Will had become close, but all four of them were a nightmare. Ross never pretended _not_ to be out for blood and chaos when he was with Will; he just hid it better.

“And all your stuff?” Will asked.

“None of it was that great anyway,” Smith said, with a bite to his tone that suggested otherwise.

“I mean, we'd crash a hotel,” Sips said, shrugging, “but, uh, what was left of our heist money was in a safe in the condo, too. Couldn't find any trace of the damn thing.”

“So–” Will started, glancing behind him. Honeydew shook his head firmly. Will's nostrils flared, and he met Ross' eyes. “You need a place to stay?”

“Absolutely not!” Xephos cried, forcing himself in front of his husband to stand beside Will. “Look, all right, I'm sorry,” he babbled, holding his hands up, “but you have to know your _history_. It's one thing, letting _Ross_ in, but we don't have the room for four guests without any notice–”

“We have a guest room,” Will pointed out, frowning.

“For one person,” Lalna said, and shrunk back at Will's glare.

Ross shuffled on his feet. “We really don't have anywhere else to go,” he said slowly, shrugging with heavy shoulders, tail falling flat on the wooden porch and dragging through the dusting of snow on the pale boards. “So we came to you.”

They all paused, looking at one another. Xephos turned to the Garbage Court, flicking his gaze between each one. “Give us a minute,” he said, and shoved Will back, closing the door.

“We can't let them stay,” Honeydew said, crossing his arms.

“Do we have a choice?” Will waved a hand toward the door. “They're homeless! What else are they going to do? Everyone in the city hates them!”

“For good reason.” Lalna rubbed his hands together and let out a hard sigh. “I don't want to turn anyone away, really, but it's the bloody Garbage Court. We can't seriously let them in our house, can we?”

“We can and we will.” Electric fire pulsed dull under Will's skin, his anger ratcheting up. “We have a spare bedroom, not to mention most of the basement that Honeydew doesn't even use. Ross is my friend, we can't turn them away.”

Honeydew opened his mouth to protest the basement comment, but closed it, turning away from Will. “It's not a great idea,” he said weakly.

“They're going to destroy the place,” Xephos said with a huff.

Will ran a hand through his hair, growling low in his throat. “What if we make them promise not to? They're fae, they can't break a promise.”

“Sips is human,” Lalna pointed out. “And Ross is enchanted rock.”

“You're not much better,” Will snapped.

“William!” Xephos grabbed his ear and yanked hard. Will cried out, stumbling, and curled his fingers over Xephos' wrist.

“Okay, okay, I'm sorry!” he yelled, and Xephos yanked once more before releasing him. Will rubbed his ear, and looked at Lalna, who stared at him with wide eyes. “I'm sorry,” he said, softer. “Listen, Ross means a lot to me. That means that his family has to matter to me too, to some degree. Can't we let them stay, just for a little bit? Their house was destroyed.”

“That's the funny bit,” Honeydew said, chewing his lip. “Trees growing up and crushing their condo? That's serious magic.” He paused, and sighed. “I'd wager I know who did it.”

Will's heart tightened, pain stabbing at his chest and quieting his flare of anger. Kirin couldn't. Kirin _wouldn't_.

“We'll discuss it later,” Xephos said quickly. “Right now we have to deal with the mess on our porch. I am not letting that kelpie in my house, I'll tell you that much.” He sneered and glanced at the door. “It's too much.”

“Have them promise to _behave_!” Will said again, trying not to let his voice scratch in his throat with his rising exasperation. “If Smith and Trott promise to be peaceful, Sips and Ross will follow them, guaranteed. Take Smith's bridle, too, if it makes you feel better.”

Xephos opened his mouth, and paused.

The Garbage Court still stood outside when they opened the door, exactly as they had a few minutes ago. Will braced himself on one side of the doorway, and Xephos stood next to him.

“You'll stay in the basement,” Xephos said, his tone clipped and tight. “You will all promise to behave yourselves and not break anything in here, physically _or_ magically. And Smith.”

Smith went stiff, top lip curling up in the beginning of a snarl.

Xephos held his hand out. “I need your bridle.”

“Oh, no _fucking_ way!” Smith broke from Trott's attempts to soothe him, baring his teeth. “You're daft if you think you're getting my fucking keys! No way, no fucking way, we're staying somewhere _else_.”

Ross frowned, putting a hand out. Smith jerked away, glaring at him.

“Mate,” Ross started. “We don't have anywhere else to go. It's this or crawling under a bridge somewhere. Your convertible isn't big enough for all of us.”

“Then I'll steal a van, I don't care!”

“Aw, come on, Smiffy,” Sips whined, leaning on the railing surrounding the porch, kicking one leg up to rest on the top of it. “I don't wanna stay in some smelly van for forever, just give him the fucking keys.”

Smith snarled, looking between Ross, Trott, and his king. Ross looked at him with pleading eyes and Trott shrugged, knowing it was their only choice.

Will's hand curled over his pant leg again, picking at the stray fibers of his jeans. Smith searched for some sign of agreement from his court, and found none. He waited a long minute, arms stiff at his side and shoulders hunched.

“The basement is heated,” Will offered. “And it has a pull-out couch.”

Smith glared at him, and looked at Ross. Ross waved a hand toward Xephos' still open palm.

Breathing hard through his nose, Smith jammed a hand inside his pants pocket. “Fine, _fine_ , fucking fine, then, but don't think I'm happy about this.”

Xephos pushed his hand out farther, and Smith nearly threw his car keys into his palm, grumbling under his breath. Xephos closed his fingers around them and tucked the keys into his own pocket. “Do you swear to behave, and not to break anything in this house, physically or magically?”

“I swear,” Ross answered easily.

“Promise,” Trott added, glancing at Smith, who rolled his eyes and nodded, muttering, “Yeah, yeah, I won't break stuff.”

“Great!” Sips pushed off the railing, clapping his hands together. “I'll get the shit we salvaged out of the car and take up the guest room, my boys can have the basement.”

Xephos' lips pulled down, but he stepped aside. Ross glanced gratefully at Will.

“Come in, then,” Will said, and moved back.

Ross walked in tentatively, his shoulders scrunched up. Trott hesitated, glancing at Sips, and followed. The threshold wavered, but Trott wasn’t wearing his selkie skin; as far as the threshold was concerned, he was little more than human. The barrier of Xephos' spells just barely shimmered, fading as Trott walked inside. Sips turned to go down the porch, walking down the street and out of sight of the doorway.

Smith glared at the doorway as though it might bite him. Will waved a hand inside, shrugging. Smith let out a short breath through his nose, and walked in. The barrier flickered more visibly, his fae nature triggering an instinctive protection from Xephos' spells. Smith was just strong enough to trigger the barrier, and just weak enough not to barrel through it the way Kirin had when he'd gotten Will's invitation the year before. He paused on the inside of the doorway, shivering, and shook it off. “Thanks,” he spat, shoving his hands into his pants pockets.

Will stood near the stairs. Ross, Trott, and Smith waited near him, kicking their feet and hunching their shoulders. Trott looked back and forth, examining the walls with their family photos and meager decorations. Smith muttered under his breath, shooting Ross _looks_ , but Ross ignored him, staring at the floor. Will tried to say something, opening his mouth, but gave up when Ross' eyes flicked to him and away.

Will knew who had done this, and Ross knew it, too. Now that the Garbage Court was inside and safe, the tension wound up, crawling between them with the subtlety of a brick wall and stopping any sort of conversation.

Sips returned, carrying a ratty suitcase, its fabric frayed around the edges, the zipper only half done. “Thanks, bud,” he said, patting Xephos' shoulder, and trudged up the stairs.

Honeydew looked the Court up and down. “This way, then,” he said, waving at them, and walked through the living room to the kitchen and the basement beyond.

All three hesitated, looking at each other. They slowly followed Honeydew. Xephos watched them with narrow eyes, expression lifting only to nod at Ross.

Pausing in the living room doorway, Ross said, “We _do_ appreciate it. This is more than we expected, really.”

Xephos' face softened, the barest hint of a smile touching his lips. “We enjoy having you, Ross. It's your friends I'm worried about.” He glanced nervously toward the living room.

Ross laughed quietly, shaking his head. “I'll keep them in check, I promise.”

“I'll help you guys get settled,” Will offered, walking up and patting Ross' arm. “Come on, the basement is pretty cool. Honeydew's fixed it up for his work, but it's more like a lounge. We even have a ping pong table down there.”

Ross turned to him, his smile suddenly gone. “Right,” he said, his tone flat. “Let's just get set up for now.”

Will's heart fell, and he swallowed. “...okay.”


	2. Chapter 2

Sips had taken the guest room, and Will had assumed he would stay there, claiming the best space for himself as the Garbage Court's king. But he came down to the basement a few minutes after dragging the suitcase upstairs, complaining about lifting weights and draping himself over Smith. Smith bristled and bickered with him, while Trott and Ross pulled out the couch to make the bed.

Will tried to help, but Trott butted in before he could, and Ross wouldn't meet his eyes while they set up the basement's small living space. Honeydew pushed his desk back and moved the old iron bed frame he used as a rock shelf to the far wall, giving the Court as much room as possible. Sips splayed out on the bed as soon as it was made, making grabby hands at his boys. Will and Honeydew looked at each other once and said their goodbyes, giving the Court the time they needed.

Xephos had made tea upstairs, pouring cups for all four of them. There were extra cups set out for the Garbage Court, but none of them came back upstairs that evening. Honeydew didn't dare go back down even though he had gems to catalogue, and Lalna made them a larger dinner than usual in expectation of more mouths to feed. Still, nothing stirred in the basement.

A few hours and a quiet meal later, Xephos crossed his arms and looked at Will. “You know how this happened,” he said, his voice clipped.

Will jumped and turned away, an embarrassed flush creeping up his neck. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“How about, for starters, not working for a git who considers the best way to fight his enemies is by _crushing_ them to death?” Honeydew glared at Will, his lips tight. “We all know Kirin doesn't like the Garbage Court. Clearly he meant to kill them with those trees.”

“We don't–” Will stopped and swallowed. “I didn't even know he could _summon_ things like that.”

“That doesn't change what happened,” Xephos said. “Will, I don't want you working for him anymore. It's too much of a risk.”

Will reached up to his neck, feeling the collar of vines and leaves. “I can't stop now,” he whispered. “It's been too long.”

“This is too far!” Xephos slammed his hand on the kitchen counter. “Sips was– _is_ – a good friend of mine. We all love Ross. The Garbage Court isn't _nice_ , but for gods' sakes, Will, they don't deserve to be crushed to death! They've–” He stopped, biting his lip. “I don't know how bad their crimes are, but this isn't the way to take care of them.”

“They broke in,” Will said, the collar tightening around his neck, Kirin's magic flowing from it and winding down his body, over his wrists and ankles. “They broke Kirin's windows while you had him trapped here. They invaded his threshold, he's probably still mad about that.”

“So they shouldn't have their own threshold and protection?” Lalna was quiet when he spoke, but he said the words with determination, arms crossed over the edge of the kitchen table where he sat beside Will. “I don't like them either, but I agree, this is over the top.”

“So I'll talk to him,” Will said, teeth gritted.

Xephos tensed. “I don't want you anywhere near him!”

“What choice do I have?!” Will stood and kicked his chair back against the table, nostrils flared, breathing hard. “I'm sorry I got myself into deals with the fucking fae, all right?! But Kirin's– he's gotta have a reason for this, if it even _was_ him, so I'll talk to him and make him fix it, okay? I don't really have anything else I can do when I've apprenticed under him for more than a year!” When Will had already become his _consort_. 

But he couldn't say that. Not to Xephos.

His words rang out through the kitchen, reverberating off the walls. Xephos frowned at him, and Honeydew glared at the floor. Will looked between all three of them and sighed. “I'm going to bed,” he said. He turned from the kitchen, not looking back. His steps heavy, his breaths short, as he trekked up the stairs to the attic. It was too much to think about; the events of the day pushed at his mind like the the thunderous, cracking vibration of jackhammers pounding away at asphalt, smashing into his brain and leaking out of his ears. He could feel his own mind fraying at the edges.

He needed a way to watch the city more directly, a way to protect it. Kirin was meant to watch over it, but clearly he had different priorities. Will stopped in front of his bed, feeling the collar again. It was soft, thrumming with green life and sharp sparks of magic. He breathed in and felt the collar constricting around him, too tight and yet not solid enough to tear away.

Will lay down and pulled the sheets over himself, turning the lights off with a flick of his magic. The city pulsed under his fingers and rang in his ears, a dull throbbing that was harder and harder to hear the more the collar wound around his throat.

 

* * *

 

It hit him the moment he woke up, and when Will thought of it, he threw his blankets off, scrounging the floor for his slippers and rushing downstairs.

He'd almost forgotten about the Garbage Court, until he came to the kitchen and saw them all crowded around their tiny kitchen table, stuffing pancakes in their mouths.

Lalna and Xephos stood next to the counter, eating while standing, and the Court took up the table space with at least two plates each piled with pancakes, syrup and butter dripping over the table's surface and their clothes. Sips had been laughing, though it died off, and he looked at Will with an amused smile. “Hey, techno boy is up,” he said, and speared another piece of pancake onto his fork. “Xeph here made some great flapjacks, you oughta have some.”

Will glanced at Xephos, who shrugged, not meeting his eyes.

“Thanks,” Will said slowly. “Um.” He looked at Xephos again. “Where's Honeydew?”

“The basement,” Lalna supplied. Xephos kept his lips tight and still refused to look at Will. “Uh,” Lalna continued, “he wanted to catch up on some of the work he meant to do last night, before . . .” He waved a hand in the air vaguely. “All this.”

Will nodded and walked past the table, opening the basement door and going down. The light of the kitchen spilled down the stairs until the halfway point, fading and melting into the pale light from the couple dangling bulbs they had in the basement, and the lamp on Honeydew's desk.

Honeydew was bent over it, a magnifying glass in one hand and a gemstone in the other. He was turning it over and over in his fingers, clucking his tongue at it. Will stopped at the bottom of the steps and waited for Honeydew to notice him.

He didn't, and Will cleared his throat.

Startling, Honeydew put down his equipment and looked up. “Oh, hello,” he said, turning in his wheeled chair to look at him. “Did you want something?”

“Yes,” Will said, glancing up at the steps. There were noises of forks hitting plates and laughter again, from Sips. Will walked closer to Honeydew's desk, settling one hand over the rough wood. “I have a favor to ask,” he said.

“I'm not talking to Kirin for you,” Honeydew snapped.

“No!” Will brought his hands up, waving them in front of him and shaking his head. “No, not anything like that. I wanted you to, uh.” He put his hands down and bit his lip, looking at the rocks and gems spread over the desk. “I was hoping you could make something for me.”

Honeydew paused, looking him up and down. “What kind of something?”

“A ring,” Will said, and hurried to keep speaking at the sight of Honeydew's wide-eyed look. “Not like the antler ring, I promise! I just . . .” Will sighed, shoulders slumping. “I need a better way to watch the city, something more direct than pushing my magic out over the streets. It's exhausting and not the fastest way. I wanted something easier, and I thought, well.” He put his hands together, rubbing his fingers over the ring finger on his right hand, where the antler ring from Kirin had sat for a few days, before Kirin took it off and hid it. “Crystal balls are still a thing, right?” he asked, looking at Honeydew.

“They are,” Honeydew said slowly, “but they generally take the form of something more modern, like glass paperweights and iPhone screens, at least from what I heard from Lomadia. She's tried scrying and such before.”

“Yeah, I know.” Will clenched his fingers, gripping his own hands tight together. “I got the idea from her, kind of. But I wanted something more direct.”

“A ring?” Honeydew said, raising an eyebrow. Will nodded, brow knit together and eyes turned hopefully down at him.

Honeydew ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the red strands. “Well,” he said, glancing at his desk, and back at Will. “I suppose it wouldn't hurt. But it's going to take me a while.”

Will smiled and said, “That's fine.” He leaned down, bringing a hand to the back of Honeydew's head to hold it, and kissed his forehead. “Thank you, Honeydew. I really appreciate it.”

Laughing and shoving him off, Honeydew smiled. “Yeah, yeah. You'd better.”

Standing, Will looked at the basement stairs, and the kitchen light spilling from the top. A ring with which to watch the city would take a few days at least, and in the meantime, he had something he needed to do.

He left Honeydew to his work, going back upstairs and past the family still chatting in the kitchen. He went to the attic to change to proper clothes, and in the front hall, he pulled on his coat and boots. The collar pulled tighter around his neck. Green magic sparked at the edges of his skin, his city magic rolling over it and tangling them together. Will took a moment to breathe, standing in front of the door and focusing on inhaling slowly, getting his and Kirin's magic both under control.

“Will?”

He turned to see Xephos standing behind him.

“I'm going out,” Will said.

Xephos' lips pursed. “To see Kirin?”

Will's shoulders slumped, and he sighed. “You were right,” he said quietly, not meeting Xephos' eyes. “Kirin was the one who destroyed Ross' house. He used his magic to try and kill people. I've got to go talk to him about it.”

“I'll come with you,” Xephos said, his voice firm.

Will looked up, eyes wide. “No. You can't.”

“I will,” Xephos said, frowning. “I can't let you go to him by yourself, that would be asking for trouble.”

“He won't kill me.” Will resisted the urge to feel his collar again. “He's invested too much time in making me his apprentice. He'd lose too much.”

“He could still hurt you.” Xephos reached out, taking Will's hand. He rubbed his fingers over Will's palm, his own calloused and worn from years of magic and building a family. “I won't forgive myself if I let you go alone.”

Will curled his hand into Xephos', letting their fingers tangle for a moment, and pulled away. He looked Xephos in the eye and said, “You have to. This is something I need to do alone.”

Xephos swallowed, lips pressed together, hand clenching where he'd been holding onto Will. The beginnings of protest twisted his lips, made his shoulders shake, but Will shook his head and grabbed a scarf from the coat closet to wind it around his neck. “I'll be back in a couple hours, probably,” he said. “I'll keep my phone on me. If I don't call in three hours, then come to the shop.”

Breathing hard, Xephos hesitated, and nodded. “Okay.”

Will smiled and leaned in, kissing his cheek. “I'll be home soon.”

“You had better be.” Xephos patted his shoulder and stepped back. “Kirin's dangerous,” he said, a tired old warning by now.

Will wanted to protest, and glanced at the living room doorway, hearing the voices of Trott and Smith arguing with one another, and Sips' snorting at their fight. There was a fond edge to Sips’ voice that overruled the anger of his court, his easy joy coming even in the worst of times.

He needed to have a talk with Kirin.

He left the house, patting his hands down the door and feeling the lock under the knob, slipping his magic inside and burning it into the metal, giving it a bit of extra strength just in case. He started down the sidewalk, heading for the bus, his scarf covering the collar on his neck but not dulling the pulse of magic over his skin.

One bus ride and a short walk later, Will stood in front of the door, blinking.

The shop was closed.

Kirin worked even on the days when Will wasn't supposed to be there. Will spent a long moment waiting for some show of life, lights flickering on in the house or sounds coming from the shop. The curtains on the shop window were closed. No signs of life surfaced. Will frowned and knocked heavily on the shop door. “Kirin!” he called. “Let me in!”

Something moved, a loud thunk, and the lock on the shop door flicked, the door opening.

“Will,” Kirin said, eyebrows raised. “I didn't expect to see you today.”

“You're closed,” Will said dully. “It's Friday.”

“I'm taking a long weekend,” Kirin said, lips tipping up in a slight smile.

Will didn't return it. “Let me in,” he repeated. “We need to talk.”

Tilting his head, confused, Kirin moved aside and let Will inside the shop. There were boxes scattered on the floor, some of the shelves emptied, signs of inventory being moved around. Will stopped in the center of the room, in front of one of the display tables, now empty and its previous contents spread on the carpet by his feet.

“What,” Will hissed, turning to Kirin, “did you _do_?”

Kirin blinked. “I have no idea–”

“Don't start!” Will grit his teeth, and took a moment to breathe and rein in his fury, feeling his magic flicker to life. “The Garbage Court,” Will said, glaring at him. “What did you do to them? How did you summon trees into their home?”

Kirin's face smoothed, taking a neutral expression. “They broke into my shop,” he said simply, squaring his shoulders. “They crossed my threshold while I was absent. They had to pay for invading my territory when I couldn't protect it.”

“By _dying_?” Will curled his hands into fists, struggling to take in air without shaking. “You smashed their house! They only _lived_ because they weren't at home!”

Kirin's eyes narrowed. “A mistake I won't make again.”

Will's jaw dropped. “What the fuck!” he spat, tears threatening to spill. He blinked rapidly to dispel them, swallowing around another yell. “They're not nice people but they don't deserve to _die_ , Kirin. Ross is my friend.”

Kirin shifted, leaning his weight on one leg and crossing his arms. “Fae are dangerous,” he said slowly. “You should know that by now, William. They have no sense of a moral compass or anything to measure their actions against. They don't understand being told that what they're doing is wrong. You must _show_ them.

“The Garbage Court has been destroying this city from the first day they arrived, starting with that kelpie and running down the line to their rotten mortal king. Even that precious gargoyle you're so fond of has fallen under the influence of his fae companions.” He looked Will up and down, settling again on his face. “I am fulfilling my role and protecting the city.”

Will had tried to stop them, but he couldn't prevent the tears from coming, streaking down his cheeks. He breathed deep, willing his voice not to shake. “If fae are so untrustworthy,” he said, “then how do I know I can trust _you_?”

Kirin smiled and stepped closer. He reached up and brushed a hand over Will's neck, beneath the scarf, to touch the collar of vines and leaves. His magic surged down it and wrapped around Will's shoulders, running down his back. “Well,” he said, “you don't really have much of a choice anymore.”

Magic rose up, green magic, like a wall, enveloping Will. It filled his lungs and pushed against his ribs, and Will nearly choked on it. The light of streetlamps and car headlights and neon store signs fought against it, fire and electricity pushing against the green wall, but was snuffed out almost as soon as it rose up.

Will shoved Kirin's hands away and slapped at the magic, wiping his hands down his arms and sending the power of train tracks and cars at rush hour over his skin, burning the green magic away. “No!” he said, and the power of his voice echoed with the sound of emergency sirens, the explosion of buildings being demolished, the smash of cars crashing into one another, snapping the roots on his ankles and rippling through his collar, ringing back in his own ears and vibrating him from the inside out.

He ran past Kirin, kicking off the green magic that wound over his shoes when he paused to open the door. He pulled his city magic up like a shield, draping over his body in thick blankets of cables and concrete.

Kirin was his teacher, his sidhe lord, his protector. He had tried to kill the Garbage Court and wrap Will in his magic, and Ross was in his basement and Will was wearing a collar and he couldn't believe any of it.

He needed something, _anything_ , to show him that Kirin hadn't closed his fist over the city, that it wasn't entirely under his control. The birches crossed his mind, the way Kirin had looked at Will when he'd spoken of missing a piece.

Will skidded to a stop on the sidewalk, panting. The people around him eyed him oddly, but he couldn't care less. He turned, looking for a street sign, and found one on the next corner. He knew the city like the back of his hand, knew the streets and the layout, and ran again, down the street, to the nearest bus stop.

The park near Nilesy's house had the most birches. Will had planted a grove in hopes of rooting Kirin's magic more firmly, had spared the rest of the antlers as he went around the city on solstice night.

He got off the bus a half hour later and walked to the park, his hands in his pockets and his heart finally calmed down from his argument with Kirin. The antler birches still stood, shining white with traces of the crystal blue they'd held while still on Kirin's body, their trunks almost fully grown.

He found the first one he’d planted that night, standing a distance apart from the small grove. Will put his hands on the bark, feeling the rough texture scrape his palms. He searched for the magic, the web that had woven between the birches and cast itself over the city, covering the buildings and the people in Kirin's touch.

Will had felt something off the last time he was here. He sought it out again, brushing soft fingers against the green magic, different from the kind that had tried to cover him in the shop. It was pliant and gentle, a quilted blanket made of the magic coming from all the birches in the city.

In the center of it, small and easy to miss, was a blank spot. The magic of the birches surrounded it on all sides, but Will could sense it, the absence of green magic, right near where his family lived.

It didn't even take a second of thought for Will to push into it, to call on his city magic and slot himself inside. Metal and wires bound together and curled into the empty space, car exhaust filtering up and out, and he sealed it closed with burning asphalt, sewing the tapestry of green with his own piece of magic nestled in the middle of it.

Kirin might see it, but Will couldn't let him keep hurting people. He needed a hold, some sort of advantage. Will felt out his space in the net of green magic, assured in its power, and opened his eyes again.

“Will? Hello, Will! Hey!”

Will jumped and turned, looking behind him. On the other side of the fence surrounding the park, Nilesy stood, waving at him. “Nilesy?” he asked. 

“Hey!” Nilesy glanced down at the fence separating them and back up. He had a red leash in one hand, which trailed down to a harness holding his cat Fishbone, sitting at Nilesy's feet. “I didn't expect to see you today,” Nilesy said, smiling. “How are you?”

Will glanced at the birch tree and took his hands off it, the tingle of residual city magic sparking off his hands when he lost the connection. He walked up to the fence and slimbed back over. “Fine,” he said, brushing a few flakes of birch bark from his fingers. “You?”

“Taking Fishbone for a walk,” Nilesy said, holding up the leash. “Would you like to join us?”

Hesitating, Will glanced back at the trees. He could see it, the brief flicker of his city magic among the flare of green. “Sure,” he said. “Yeah, I'd like that.”

Walking a cat wasn't something Will had ever seen, but Nilesy wasn't the sort of person that did anything the conventional way. He swung the leash idly while Fishbone walked, sniffing over the sidewalk and pawing at random patches of dirt. Nilesy had put a coat on him, a fluffy knitted thing, to keep the cat from freezing.

Will kept his eyes down, going over his argument with Kirin again and again. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like Kirin might have been trying to comfort him with his green magic, and Will had shoved it away without thinking. But it hadn't felt _right_. He couldn't shake the disturbed feeling from his very bones.

A tap on his shoulder; Will turned and saw Nilesy staring at him with a furrowed brow. “Er,” Nilesy said. “Are you sure you're okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” Will shrugged. “There's just been a lot on my mind.”

Nilesy nodded sympathetically, turning to watch where they were walking.

As he turned his head, Will caught it. Pale, green, shining in the dim light of the winter sun. In Nilesy's hair, wound between the black curls, was a thin vine.

Will's eyes went wide, and he stared at it. Nilesy's gaze stayed on his cat and the sidewalk, and Will leaned back a little to better look at the vine. It wove through Nilesy's hair, a short piece, but bound tight. He reached out, carefully, feeling with his city magic and, quietly, pulling a piece of Kirin’s magic up with it.

The vine flared with the touch of familiar magic. Will drew back, physically and magically. Nilesy turned again, and Will smiled. “How is, uh, how is Fishbone?” he asked, glancing down at the cat.

“Oh, he's great!” Nilesy beamed, launching into a rant about what he'd been doing with his magic and how Fishbone helped him.

Will took the chance to look at the vine again. He'd seen it before, had caught a glimpse when Nilesy had bought a mint plant a few months ago. It was just like the collar around Will's neck; a sign of Nilesy's debt to Kirin.

He hadn't expected to be able to see something like that, but he _was_ Kirin's consort now, their argument notwithstanding. He'd been able to make deals with customers on Kirin's behalf even before becoming consort, and now he could see the debt that resulted from that, clear as day in the strands of Nilesy's hair.

Tucking his hands into his pants pockets, Will pushed the green magic out again, feeling for the vine. He caught it, and tugged. The vine gave, pulling away, and Nilesy paused in his story about his cat to cough. Each movement of his head pulled counterpoint to Will's grasp on the debt, breaking it further from his hair.

“Hey,” Will said, interrupting him. Nilesy sputtered to a stop and blinked at him. Will met his eyes. “Do you still have debts with Kirin?”

Nilesy tensed. “Uh, I– I think so?” He swallowed and looked at the ground, staring at his shoes. “I haven't been able to pay him back for letting me have the mint. Or, uh, _you_ letting me have it–”

“It's his debt,” Will said. “His shop, his debt, even if I was the one who made it. But you paid for the plant in full. Is there anything else you haven't repaid him for?” Anything strong enough to give Nilesy a plant tucked into his hair and anchoring him to Kirin's magic was worth more than paltry shop items.

“Oh, er, well.” Nilesy started to shake his head, and stopped. “I guess . . .” He looked at Will, eyebrows knitted together. “How much do you know?”

“Nothing,” Will admitted, holding both hands up and shrugging. “Kirin doesn't tell me about his debts, I only know what I see or hear.”

Nilesy looked ahead again, sighing. “Well, see. There's this thing.” He paused, bending down to pick up Fishbone, who yowled in protest but settled when Nilesy started petting over his back. With a cat in his arms, Nilesy relaxed, and said, “When I first came to the city, before I moved in with Lomadia, I had a hard time starting. I didn't have much money and my charms weren't very good.”

Will nodded attentively, eyes flicking to the vine every couple minutes.

“I needed cash for better ingredients or spellbooks or– _something_ , to help me learn my craft. Just when I thought I was going to miss rent again and be evicted from my apartment, Kirin showed up.” Nilesy swallowed. “I walked by his shop and I didn't mean to go in, but Kirin leaned out the door and invited me in. I didn't know he was fae then, but.” He looked at Will with a sad smile. “He's good at talking to people. Got me to admit my troubles and then offered me a bit of a starting fund. I managed to get my charms going and start selling, but I never fully paid him back for that.”

Will frowned, fingers clenched at his side. Kirin had drawn in an unsuspecting victim and forged a debt between them before Nilesy even knew he was a faerie. And Nilesy wasn't a big time seller, he could get by and be comfortable, but the money Kirin had lent him to start up would be difficult for anyone to pay back, let alone Nilesy, who didn't have the best business sense.

“I see,” Will said. Nilesy stared at his cat, lost in his thoughts. Will looked at the vine again, pushing Kirin's green magic toward it and curling around it. The collar flexed around his neck. Will let his city magic seep under the collar and heat his skin with the power of car engines and the rhythm of people walking in the street, and wrapped green magic around the vine in Nilesy's hair.

Nilesy had been in the city for years and spent more than enough money at Kirin's shop. As far as Will was concerned, his debt was paid.

He yanked, and the vine came free, breaking a couple of Nilesy's hairs in the process. Nilesy stopped walking and felt the back of his head, muttering a quiet, “Ouch . . .”

Will slipped the debt into his hands and crushed it between his fingers, wrapping a shield of green magic over his fist to snuff it out. Kirin would probably be able to feel it, but he didn't care; he couldn't hold his debt over Nilesy any longer.

He kept walking, and stopped, turning back to look at Nilesy. “Coming?” he asked.

Nilesy looked up, eyes wide. “Uh, yeah, just . . .” He felt the back of his head again. “Felt like something bit me,” he muttered, and set Fishbone down, walking with Will again.

“So,” Will said, “I asked about the debt because I think I wanna help you pay it off.”

Head whirling to look at him, Nilesy said, “Will! You can't do that, I still owe Kirin more than a thousand dollars!”

“Yeah, but.” Will shrugged. “You've been a good customer for quite a while. I think I can convince Kirin to let it go, since it's been so long.”

“I doubt that,” Nilesy said, frowning. “But you're welcome to try, I guess. And– thank you.” He swallowed, patting a hand absently on his leg. “I appreciate the thought, either way.”

“No need,” Will said, picking up his pace on the sidewalk. He opened the fingers still curled around the debt, and nothing fell out, the debt gone and vanished like it had never existed. “I don't need any thanks, Nilesy.”

 

* * *

 

The Garbage Court didn't make Honeydew's work in the basement easy, but he still spent a few hours a night downstairs, usually shortly after dinner when the Court hung out in the living room and talked with the rest of the family.

Ross still wouldn't talk casually to Will, but at least he looked at him after the first few days, his gaze hesitant and wary. Will smiled at him as much as he could, but didn't push it.

A week after asking for the ring, Honeydew got up from the dinner table and tapped Will on the shoulder. Will stopped with spaghetti halfway to his mouth, and put down his fork to follow him. Xephos grumbled about keeping company at dinner, but Honeydew kissed his cheek and kept pulling Will to the basement door.

“I didn't know what you wanted,” he said, “and you didn't seem to know specifics, so I went with my gut.”

“You finished it?” Will asked, stopping at the base of the stairs and watching Honeydew go to his desk. He bent down and rummaged in one of the lower drawers. Standing, he held something hidden in his fist, and walked up to Will.

“I did,” he said, nodding. “It's one of my better pieces, I think. I'm no expert with glass, but I've got something really nice here, something I'd probably charge up the arse for if you weren't family.”

Will swallowed and nodded. “Thank you,” he said.

“Don't thank me 'till you see it.” Honeydew held his hand out, and Will offered an open palm, letting Honeydew drop the ring into it.

It was heavy, made of metal and stone. The ring itself was made of blue stone with gold plating on the inside, dark blue designs etched into the side, made with a fine tool. They were dwarven runes, and Will knew enough from what Honeydew had taught him to read symbols of protection and shields.

The top of the ring was glass, traditional for a crystal ball of sorts, but what made Will gasp was what Honeydew had put _inside_ the glass.

It was a miniature version of their city, made of black stone that was painted in places to mimic the buildings and streets. As tiny as it was, no wider than one of Will's knuckles, it wasn't a perfect imitation and it wouldn't have every detail, but it was clearly their city. City hall, the hospital, the college and the local high school, as well the shopping district, the residential area, and main street, just from a brief glance. For its size, it was a mind blowing replica.

“Honeydew . . .” Will looked at him, brow furrowed. “I– I don't know what to say.”

“It was a pain to make that,” Honeydew said, shrugging. “But, you needed something to watch the city with. I figured the best way would be to look at a close resemblance. There'll be stronger magic in it.”

Will launched forward, wrapping his arms around Honeydew's shoulders. Honeydew yelled, and laughed, returning the hug. “Don't get sappy, now,” he mumbled.

“Thank you,” Will said, drawing back to smile down at him. “Thank you so much, you have no idea how much this means to me. With this I can go as far as knowing what _street_ to go to if something bad happens, you have no idea how incredible this is.”

Honeydew snorted and crossed his arms. “I have _some_ idea, I made the thing.”

Will nodded, clutching the ring in his hands. He slipped it on his right ring finger, where the antler ring had been before. He smiled at Honeydew again. “It’s wonderful.” He fiddled with the ring another moment, the tenderness of the scene fading. Will clenched his hand into a fist and turned to go up the stairs.

“Oi,” Honeydew said, and he stopped, looking at him. “You should make nice with Xeph and Ross,” he said, nodding toward the basement door. “Xeph's just worried, and, well, I can't speak for Ross, but I don't think he really blames you. He's just got nowhere to direct his anger right now.”

Will swallowed. “Yeah, I know. I'm working on that.”

“Good.” Honeydew patted his arm and turned to his desk. “I have other work to do now that that bloody ring's finally done, so shoo.” He waved a hand playfully at Will, urging him away.

Laughing, Will went up the stairs, slipping the ring from his finger into his pocket.

He sat at the crowded dining room table and finished his dinner, waiting until the the dishes were cleaned and the family had settled in the living room to go up to the attic. It was nearly midnight and the moon was high in the sky, partially blocked by clouds.

The ring on its own wouldn't do him any good. It needed magic to help it along, but Honeydew was right. With a vision of the city in the center of the glass, it would make a much better tool than Will could have hoped.

He sat on his bed and slipped the ring on again. It was heavy, but naturally Honeydew had been able to guess at Will's ring size and get it right, and the ring didn't slip off. Honeydew had been forging jewelry for years, and he hadn't failed yet.

Will could feel the city at the edges of his mind, always present and never quiet, thrumming with life even in the late hours of the evening. Animals skittered across the roads, people without a home sat in shelters and under bridges begging for kindness from strangers, people stayed late in their offices and fell asleep at their desks hoping that enough hours would get them that promotion they'd always wanted. Will breathed in and felt the scratch of metal and heat, of electricity and the beat of thousands of voices speaking at once.

He wove the spell of the city over the ring, feeling the beating hearts of its people and the rolling electricity of the wires, the creak of the concrete walls and the patter of snow falling on roofs. The ring flared with the city's energy, the magic burying under the glass and filling in the corners, covering the miniature replica. Will opened his eyes and saw the neon glow of his magic shining over the ring, curved across the glass and clinging to the stone.

With this, he could watch over the city properly.

A knock made Will jump, and he glanced around until he saw Ross, his head peeking up the attic stairs. “Hi,” he said quietly, lifting his head higher, not moving from the attic stairs. “Up to some magic, mate?”

Will blinked. It was the first time Ross had spoken to him directly since they'd let the Garbage Court into their home. “Uh, yeah,” he said, sitting back on his bed. “Wanna see?”

Ross climbed the stairs and took a seat beside Will, the bed creaking with his weight. He leaned forward, peering at the ring. “It's nice,” he said, tilting his head back and forth. “Honeydew did a good job.”

“You knew?” Will asked, half covering the ring with his other hand, feeling the tiny pulse of his magic inside it.

Ross shrugged, leaning back on his hands. “It was obvious he was doing something. We're sleeping in his basement, remember?” He flashed a weak smile. “So, you want to protect the city?”

“I–” Will swallowed. “I have to. After what . . . what Kirin did.”

Ross dropped his gaze, staring at the floor. A long moment of silence stretched between them, the sounds of the family rising through the open stairway. Sips was loud; Will couldn't remember the last time he'd seen his family so rambunctious, before Sips started goading them into long, annoying conversations that left everyone else exhausted and Sips giggling without reason.

“I don't blame you,” Ross said, breaking the silence. He met Will's eyes, his brow furrowed. “I just don't understand why you stay with him.”

Will's hands flinched, and his awareness of the collar spiked. The magic never left his throat, always clutching and squeezing; never enough to choke him, but clearly threatening to. 

“I can't,” he said, sighing. “I _care_ about him still, and . . . he's got me stuck in more ways than one. There's no choice.”

Ross hummed thoughtfully and turned to look at the window, staring outside. “You know,” he said, “there's been more foliage around town.”

Will perked up, eyebrow raised. “What kind of foliage?”

Shrugging, he said, “Bushes, trees, plants growing in the sidewalk. It was bad enough when we found one of Kirin's trees in our territory.” Ross growled, and Will ducked his head, biting his lip. Ross didn't seem to notice, continuing, “Now there's all kinds of plants growing. In the middle of bloody winter, too, but I've seen it. There's unnatural greenery all over the place.”

Will shook his head, his fingers clasped tighter over the ring. “I should have seen it,” he muttered. “I should have known Kirin's motivations were full of hate.”

“What will you do?” Ross asked, turning to face him fully.

Will ran his thumb over the ring and pushed it farther onto his finger, just over the knuckle. “I don't know,” he said, looking at the city's replica trapped inside the glass. “But at least now I can keep track of the city.”

His city, he thought, and gave Ross a small smile. Ross returned it and leaned closer, resting his shoulder against Will. The weight made him grunt, but Will pushed back into it, and they sat there, listening again to the sounds of both their families downstairs.

 

* * *

  

Nilesy wasn't the only one who owed Kirin a debt he didn't deserve. The days passed by and Will started looking for them, traces of green on the customers who stopped by the shop. He found too many green vines and delicate ribbons, wrapped over hands and legs and waists, signs of Kirin's magic present in almost anyone that came in.

The sheer magnitude of it made Will shiver. He could see a million different debts, so many of them small things that could be easily absolved, but no doubt Kirin made sure to keep them alive and in his favor, tying himself to the people of the city so he could always watch over them and know how the city was breathing, controlling how much life it took into its body.

Will had spoken to Nilesy a couple times since he'd removed the debt, texting him and calling once to check up on him, worried that Kirin would exact revenge for the debt's removal. But nothing disastrous came upon Nilesy and, in fact, he bragged to Will that he'd been sleeping better. Will had confirmed to Nilesy that his debt was taken care of, and Nilesy hadn't stopped thanking him since.

He made sure to take texts and calls from Nilesy outside the shop, lest Kirin hear what he'd done.

The decision to do something about the other debts came easy. Ross had asked Will what he was going to do; part of Kirin's power came from his ties to the city and, Will knew, if those ties were broken, he wouldn't be able to watch the city in the same way.

The debts were easy to touch. Will watched the customers coming in and out and, if Kirin was busy in the greenhouse or out doing errands– which happened increasingly as of late– Will took the chance to guide customers around and subtly grab at the debts surrounding them. He snapped ribbons and crushed vines and leaves, leaving the people lighter than they'd been coming inside.

His own collar squeezed his neck, and Will let its magic flare with each debt he destroyed, the green flowing through his body from his head to the tips of his fingers and toes, filling his lungs and wrapping tight around his city magic. The more he used it and the more debts he broke, the easier it came, and soon, the green of the shop started to welcome him. Will relished it, letting his fingers dance over the potted plants and his city magic weave itself into the green until it was hard to distinguish the feelings between the two.

It made sense that Lalna, the one that lived with the dryad Nano, had a debt too. He came to the shop often enough to owe Kirin simply for taking so much of his business and always having the right supplies when he visited.

The bell above the door rang. Will looked up from his magazine, in the middle of an article on improved solar power, and smiled at Lalna. “Hi, there,” he said, standing. “Anything I can help you with today?”

Lalna turned to him and waved, and Will saw it. There, around his wrist, was a thin, green ribbon. Will had yet to learn what the difference was, between the debts of vines, stems and leaves, and the ones that looked like ribbons. It was a manifestation of magic and the difference had to be important, but now, all that mattered was that it was there, coiled tight over Lalna's skin.

“Hey,” Lalna said, looking around. “Kirin isn't here today?”

“He's got some meeting with a client about landscape advice,” Will said, walking around the counter. “What do you need?”

Lalna looked at him again, his eyes lingering just below Will's face. He snapped his gaze back to Will's eyes and shrugged. “I'm just picking up some ingredients, I can fetch them myself.”

Will nodded and leaned against the counter, watching Lalna walk around the shelves and start looking at the products, glancing around for what he knew he needed and letting his eyes linger on some of the new stock.

Letting his magic flow outward, Will sought out the ribbon on Lalna's wrist. It was wrapped several times around and tied together, no doubt a sign of strength. Green magic surged up inside him, focused around the collar and slowly dripping down the rest of Will’s body. He breathed in, tasting burning garbage and electric lights, and let the fire of it tangle with the green, guiding it towards Lalna's debt to burn it away and leave nothing in its wake.

But when his magic found Lalna, reaching up and curling around his wrist, the ribbon flared bright, its color suddenly vibrant. Will's fire surrounded it and threatened to burn, but no matter how hard he pushed, how thickly his magic covered the debt, it wouldn't break.

Lalna shook his head, a shiver running down his spine. Will moved from the counter and feigned organizing one of the shelves, peeking at Lalna.

The debt stayed on his wrist, Will's magic fluttering around Lalna's feet. Will let the city fires die down and took hold of the green magic again, coiling it over the ribbon.

The magic grabbed at the edges of the ribbon and pulled, the knot moving and the edges slipping down Lalna's wrist. Still, it stayed around him, not moving more than an inch. Will couldn't break it.

A debt that powerful, that would resist Will without so much as straining, would give Kirin power. He could _use_ it, draw on Lalna's life and energy for his own gain. Will had seen the way the debts glowed when Kirin interacted with people, how they were drawn to his body and his magic. If Will left it, Kirin would be able to call on Lalna for favors, and could use the debt as a guarantee of his presence where Nano and Lalna lived, to control the city _through_ Lalna.

Will had seen enough of the green magic to know how it wound over its subjects and bound them to Kirin. He wouldn't let that happen.

He moved back to the counter and lifted the magazine to his face, glancing over the pages at Lalna, who had his back to Will. He let the green magic rise again, tingling under his skin and putting the sour taste of chlorophyll at the back of his tongue. Will grabbed the debt again, pulling, feeling how it anchored to something– to some _one_ – far away from the shop.

Will grabbed the tail end, the bit of ribbon where it was tied together over Lalna's wrist, and pulled it. It moved, in small bits at first, but Will pushed his green magic around it and coaxed it further out, away from the walls of the shop and the distant body he could feel even through the single debt. He led it away from moss floors and fern leaves, and felt the hum of it, the pulse that beat in time to Lalna's own heart. Will took hold, both hands clenched around the pages of the magazine, and pulled the debt to him.

Casting it over his own body and settling it on his shoulders, Will breathed hard. The weight of it was almost physical, like a stone, and it took a long moment and a few breaths before he could see straight again. He looked at Lalna.

The debt still held to the edges of the shop, wound over a pair of antlers he couldn't see, and Will grit his teeth. He sent green magic rushing over Lalna's arm where the debt held, dipping further into Kirin's magic than he'd ever dared, and pulled the debt over himself, wrapping it around his torso and breathing hard, letting it sit just under his ribs.

A vibration resonated over his entire body. Will shook, blinking a few times. The weight of the debt settled, calm and quiet.

Lalna turned, raising an eyebrow. “Are you okay? You got a cough or something?”

“Uh, yeah, just a little sick.” Will waved his hand dismissively. “I'm fine.”

Looking him up and down, Lalna's eyes narrowed briefly, and he said, “All right,” with more caution than Will wanted. But he turned back to his work picking out his supplies, and Will breathed easier.

How Kirin held the debts of the entire city, Will would never comprehend. Just Lalna's debt was difficult enough for him to hold, feeling the weight of what Lalna needed to repay. It pushed on his chest and made it hard to breathe, compressing his ribs, but at least Kirin wasn’t connected to it anymore. He hoped the weight of it wouldn't always stay so heavy, that perhaps he would get used to it over time.

Lalna came to the counter with his ingredients, lining them up. Will stood and put the magazine down, ringing up the register and writing down the sales in the logbook. Lalna stood patiently, flicking his right hand occasionally. Will peered at the debt, glowing bright on Lalna's wrist. If he didn't know any better, he would think the ribbon suddenly looked a lot more like an electric light, flaring bright enough to light up a room.

He wrapped everything and watched Lalna leave, taking slow breaths as he adjusted to the new weight on his magic. Will closed his eyes and called his city magic, letting it fill him up and feel out the green sitting in his chest. It weighed on his heart, and the edges of the collar's vines trailed restlessly over Will's skin in response, shifting back and forth and pressing their magic over Will's pulse points.

He couldn't break Lalna's debt, but he was more than happy to take over watching it. 


	3. Chapter 3

As it turned out, a lot of Kirin's debts were like that.

The customers who came in occasionally, who thanked Kirin for helping them and carried out small paper bags with a couple homemade soaps or a new plant inside, they had small, breakable debts. Will didn't need to give up all his focus in order to break them, and he could have sworn that the people, freed of their debts, walked with a certain lightness when he broke the vines and ribbons, moving with more freedom.

Lalna's case was a little more common than Will would have liked.

He carried Lalna's debt in his chest. Others settled along his shoulders, over his waist, weighed down his arms and legs. Will slumped over the counter on a busy day at the shop. He watched the vines growing along his body, slowing his movement, as people with debts too strong to be destroyed walked in and out, unaware that the owner of their favors and deals had changed.

Will had hoped that Kirin wouldn't notice right away.

A hand settled over his back, and a low voice said, “William. Take a break for a minute. I have something to ask you.”

Will went stiff and looked up at Kirin looming over him. The vines on his arms curled reflexively, Kirin's magic reacting to his presence even when they were no longer attached to him. Will swallowed, the collar shifting around his throat, and nodded.

He stood, Kirin beckoning him to the back of the shop. “What is it?”

Kirin swept his arm around Will, pushing him against a wall, his back on hard wood, both of Kirin's arms barricading him. Will gasped and Kirin leaned in, tilting his head, eyes going up and down Will's face. “How are you faring, Will?” he said slowly, in the purr that usually had Will's arousal lit up within seconds, but now only made his heart beat faster and the collar tighten on his throat. “Do you enjoy being my consort?”

“V-Very much,” Will sputtered. “I've been practicing with green magic.”

“I can tell.” Kirin moved even closer, their foreheads nearly touching. “I apologize for not keeping you in the greenhouse more often, but, I've been doing my errands, trying to prepare the shop for spring.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “I should be around more, teaching you. Especially after that argument.”

Will tried and failed not to turn red, a flush creeping up his neck. He'd apologized for running out and Kirin had accepted the apology with a smile. He'd thought the discussion was over.

It seemed, with Kirin, nothing that worked against him was over. “It's fine,” he said.

“Will,” Kirin said, his voice more urgent. “I know it's only been a couple of months since you became my consort, but you've clearly got a good hold on green magic.” His lips tipped up in a faint smile. “The birches, the greenhouse . . . the debts.” He smiled knowingly and revealed sharp teeth, much sharper than they should have been under a human guise. “I think you're ready for more.”

Will flinched and tried to move away, but Kirin's arms slid closer, bracketing him further to the wall. “It's time to start watching over the entire city,” Kirin said, putting emphasis on the last word. “To spread my magic through it, through the streets and buildings, until it's all green. I need my magic to permeate every last inch of the metal and wires, Will.”

“Why?!” Will spat, his city magic flaring, rising up like a thick cloud of pollution, fitting in the inches between his face and Kirin's. “Why are you trying so hard to put your magic everywhere?”

Kirin shifted, nose crinkling as Will's magic curled around his face and neck. Will could feel his green magic responding, leaves and branches flicking through the pollution. Will swallowed and summoned electricity to the tips of his fingers, holding them in tight fists by his side.

“I want the city under me,” Kirin said, pushing at Will's shield, the green magic coating his body and sliding over Will, threatening to tie his wrists, winding around his ankles. The collar flexed again, vines digging into his skin. “I need it where I can keep it safe,” Kirin said, baring teeth and flicking his tongue over the canines. “Where it will belong to me, as it should. As it always has.”

“I'm–” Will hesitated, letting the electricity in his hands burn brighter, stealing flame from the oil lamps to boost it with fire and energy, pulling from the heat in the floors and the walls and drawing it to him. “I'm not sure I can do that.”

“Of course you can.” Kirin's fingers dug into the wall by Will's head, and above Kirin, for a second, Will saw his antlers and horns. His skin was tinged blue, his teeth getting even sharper, the glamour flickering. The lights of the shop faded the more Will drew from their fire. “You're my consort,” Kirin said. “And you will help me take this city.” His green magic pushed forward, coiling like a snake ready to strike.

Will snarled, raising his hands up and unleashing heat, electricity, flame, bringing it up like a shield. Kirin cried out, and Will took the moment to snatch his green magic, to grab the coiled snake of chlorophyll and thick bark and whip it back at Kirin, stabbing the magic through his glamour and around his arms, binding him.

It would only last a few moments. Will ducked out from under Kirin, forcing green from under the floor and throwing it up behind him. He heard a growl of, “William!” and though the sound of his sidhe lord calling him made the collar tighten and his throat close up, Will barged through the front door and down the street, not even stopping to grab his coat.

He'd run from Kirin the last time and gone to find the birches, to reassure himself that Kirin wasn't in control, that he couldn't take over the way Will feared he would.

He didn't need reassurance this time.

Despite how much he wanted to run home, Will knew the bus was faster, and found the nearest stop on the route home, catching it and sitting anxiously in the empty seat closest to the door. It was a twenty minute ride, and Will tapped his foot on the bus floor, the lights above him flickering with his panic. The heat he'd packed into his hands had started burning, and it felt like the collar got tighter every minute. Will wasn't sure how much of that was his imagination.

Xephos was right. He’d been right about everything.

Will apologized in his head a thousand times on his way home, and nearly fell off the bus when it stopped near his house. He ran down the street, the cold biting at his exposed neck and hands, slipping under his shirt to make him shiver. Will ignored it and pushed harder, barely able to breathe.

He skidded to a stop in front of his house, but it was too late.

Bushes snagged the corners of the porch, wrapping around the railing and tearing the wood apart. Trees had sprung up and hung over the roof, their branches pushed through the windows to shatter the glass, wrapping over the edges of the shingles. Thick vines had grown from the ground, covering the fence around their yard and creeping around the foundations. The grass was long and full of new weeds; a forest had sprouted under Will's feet.

He opened the fence, forcing it past the new thickness of grass over the stepping stones, and ran inside. Thankfully the door was untouched, but when he passed through it, Will didn't feel the usual ripple of Xephos' magic, the threshold barrier that stopped intruders from entering. It had been broken along with the wrecked shell of the house's physical body.

Inside, there was silence. Will stopped inside the doorway, panting, and heard breathing to the right. He turned to the living room and walked inside, hands catching on the doorway and holding tight.

On the floor, Honeydew was on his hands and knees. In front of him, the wood was cracked, holes the size of Will's fists penetrating the floor, and the smell of burnt wood filled his nostrils. Lalna was curled up on the armchair, his knees tucked against his chest, and the Garbage Court stood in the kitchen doorway watching them both. Everyone except Honeydew turned their eyes on Will when he stepped inside.

“What–” Will nearly choked on his own voice, and cleared his throat. “What happened?”

“What happened?” It was Honeydew's voice, low. He shifted, lifting his head from the burning spot on the floor, sitting back on his knees. “What happened?” he asked again, raising his volume. He clenched both hands, pushing himself off the floor, and turned slowly, glaring at Will with a fire in his eyes that made Will flinch, stepping back. “What happened,” Honeydew said, getting louder with each word, “is that Xephos was trapped in a goddamn circle of trees, and he was fucking _summoned_ away even though that shouldn't be _bloody_ possible!” He stalked up to Will like a force of nature, a whirlwind threatening to knock him aside despite his short stature.

“My _husband_ was just summoned away in a bloody fucking _magic circle_ even though he's the most powerful witch in the fucking _city_!” Honeydew slammed his palm on the wall, and Will jumped, taking another step back, but Honeydew caught his wrist and dragged him back with his other hand. “Do you know fucking _anything_ about Kirin the goddamned sidhe lord taking my husband away?!” he roared, nostrils flared and shoulders bunched, ready to strike the next creature that gave him any excuse to do it.

“No!” Will jerked back, unable to break his grasp. “Honeydew, I swear, I didn't do this! Kirin–” He stopped, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. He said, in barely a whisper, “I didn't want this to happen.”

Honeydew looked him up and down and sneered, throwing Will's wrist from his grip. “Well, Kirin already caught you,” he said, his tone dripping with bitterness. “Maybe I shouldn't be surprised that he caught Xephos, too.”

Will's mind flashed back to the chocolate, how he’d wished he could please Kirin and get his forgiveness for not planting all the antlers, and the panic when Xephos had eaten a piece. And now he'd been summoned away by Kirin, which shouldn't have been possible. Xephos had had enough power to trap Kirin in a circle the year before; you couldn't trap that which was more powerful than you.

But Will had fucked it all up.

“Honeydew,” he said, his voice cracked and broken, and he pushed a sob down, willing himself not to cry. “Honeydew, I'm so sorry.”

“I don't want to hear it.” Honeydew didn't even look at him, pushing past the Garbage Court to go to the kitchen. A second later, the basement door slammed.

No one looked at him. Lalna stared at the floor, and the Garbage Court shuffled in various states of discomfort. Will tried to look at Ross, but he was staring at the wall, his lips pursed. Smith had the look of a child caught in a fight between his parents, and Trott and Sips were glancing at each other, speaking in low voices.

Will took a deep breath and turned.

He went upstairs, to the attic, and opened his footlocker. Xephos had disenchanted the lock when digging around to find evidence of Will's loyalty to Kirin. The footlocker had his gardening magazines, the bag of broken antler pieces from the solstice, and now, Will's ring.

He'd known he couldn't wear it to Kirin's shop. Will slipped it on, brushing a thumb over the glass. He could see the corners of the stone filling in with green. There were only a few specks, little bits at the bottoms of the buildings that looked like bushes and trees in the miniature city, but they were there when before they hadn't been. Will needed to act fast.

It had to end.

He curled his hand tight, the ring heavy on his finger, and went back downstairs. Will walked past Lalna and to the kitchen door, the Garbage Court parting automatically for him with wary looks.

Trott caught his shoulder. Will jerked to a stop and looked at him.

“Be careful, mate,” Trott warned, and let go.

Will nodded and went to the basement. There was a weak ward over the door, a pale shadow of the barrier Xephos had put over the house. Honeydew had never been very good at magic. Will pushed through it using the electricity of the stove and the refrigerator, grabbing each and shooting a bolt outward, opening the basement door and walking down without pause.

“Leave me alone,” Honeydew growled, Will still halfway down the steps. He didn't stop until he was at the bottom, looking at Honeydew bent over his desk. Honeydew had a magnifying glass in one hand and was fiddling with a gem. Probably trying to figure out if he could summon Xephos back.

“I need Xephos' stuff,” Will said, stepping closer.

“What for?” he spat, looking at Will. “So you can make _that_ disappear too?”

“So I can track him.” Will held out the ring, tilting it to get the reflection of the light on the glass. “You made me a model of the city. I need it sooner than I'd hoped.”

Honeydew paused, sitting back, and looked at Will fully. His eyes were starting to turn red, tear tracks stained down his cheeks and running into his thick beard. Honeydew always looked younger than Xephos despite being a few years older. He was full of life and laughter, and where Xephos' temples had started graying, Honeydew had the fullest orange beard of anyone Will had ever met.

Now, his age started to show, in the worried crease of his brow and the wrinkled skin around his eyes.

“Which things?” he asked, putting his hands in his lap.

Will relaxed and said, “At least four or five objects that were important to him. Books, spell ingredients, clothes, anything. The closer they are to him, the better.”

Honeydew nodded and stood, moving past Will to walk up the basement stairs. Will followed with quick steps.

The door opened, and they both stopped. Trott poked his head in, eyebrows furrowed. “Uh, guys,” he said, glancing at them both. “Shit's going down outside. We might be more than a little fucked at the moment.”

“What?!” Honeydew rushed the rest of the way up. Will followed and clenched the hand wearing his ring, working to keep his breathing steady.

“You might want to look out the window.” Trott moved back to give them space and pointed at the kitchen window. Honeydew ran to it, stopped, and dragged a chair over, standing on it to get a better view.

Will stood beside him. His eyes went wide.

Outside, their backyard was overgrown with weeds and vines, the garden ruined and the branches of their resident tree stretched up to cover their roof in the same way as the invading trees at the front. That wasn't the shocking part, though.

The sidewalk had been torn apart, the streets uprooted. Bits of concrete and asphalt were scattered around, and where they'd once been, plants were growing, breaking through the barriers of the city and reaching for the sky. Bushes, trees, grasses, ferns, all spread sporadically over the streets and growing between the neighbors' houses. Will touched the window and closed his eyes, reaching past what little shelter their house gave them with Xephos' magic already broken, and felt it.

A thick, cloying wall of _green_ existed just beyond their home, pouring into the street and flooding the city.

“Shit,” he whispered, drawing his hand away.

“We're finding Xephos,” Honeydew said, jumping down from the chair. “Kirin took him. If we find Xephos, we find Kirin, and we can put an end to this mess.”

Trott had his arms crossed, glancing at the living room doorway, where the rest of the court had arranged themselves on the couch. Lalna was still in his armchair, now giving panicked looks to the window behind him. “Look,” Trott said. “This isn't another time of going, 'oh, Kirin's got ties in the city, yeah, that totally sucks,' we're in actual _danger_ here.” He frowned at Will, and looked at Honeydew. “What the fuck do you expect us to be doing about this?”

Honeydew's shoulders slumped, and he breathed in. He closed his eyes for a moment, and opened them, saying, “Not fucking nothing, that's for sure.”

He stormed out of the kitchen, through the living room and upstairs. Will watched him, and looked at Trott. “You blame me for this,” he said, his tone flat.

Trott shrugged. “Who else is there to blame, mate? You just about fucked us all over.”

Will glanced at the ring, and felt the collar around his neck. “Yeah,” he said. “I really did.”

Trott blinked, lips parting in his surprise, but Will didn't linger. He went to the living room and stood at the center, eyeing the scorch and torn wood at the center of the room.

There were a dozen holes in the shape of a circle, each the size of his fist and with ragged edges from the broken wood. Something had punched through the floor and taken Xephos away, summoning him to Kirin's side. He'd probably vanished the moment Will ran away from Kirin's shop.

Will had given him the chocolate and refused Kirin's offer to take over the city.

The collar tightened around his neck, and Will tried not to grab at it. No one knew he wore it, couldn't see what bound him so tightly to Kirin's side even now, how the green magic flowed through him and settled at the base of his neck and pulsed through the living cage on his skin.

No one else knew that Will belonged so thoroughly to Kirin, but _Will_ knew.

The purpose of the collar made a lot more sense in hindsight.

Footsteps banged down the stairs, and Will looked up. Honeydew came in carrying an armload of objects and, without saying anything, went to the remnants of the summoning circle and started laying them out, just inside the ring where trees had broken through and taken Xephos away.

Will counted the objects as Honeydew laid them out. A spellbook, leather bound and smelling of moth balls; Xephos' guide to his magic. A red jacket, the one Xephos wore whenever he had to go out no matter what the weather was. A bottle of lotion, for his perpetually dry hands. A novel with worn pages and a cover so horribly bent that it threatened to fall off. And a picture frame.

The last one almost made Will choke. The frame was big, with divisions for four separate pictures. One was of Xephos and Honeydew, waving from the porch of their house back when they'd just bought it. Another was of Lalna dressed in a nice shirt with his hair combed back, probably one of the first pictures they'd taken after creating him. The third was Xephos with his brother. And the last . . .

Will should have expected it, but it nearly brought tears to his eyes anyway. A picture of his mother, sitting in an armchair, and Xephos perched carefully on the arm of it, his arms cradled, and Will, when he was still a baby, resting carefully in his hold. Xephos had lived in the countryside for the first few years of Will's life, before moving to the city for the sake of finding better business for his hedgewitchery. Will couldn't remember much from that time of his life, and Xephos had only been able to visit during holidays. He'd been more of a stranger than Will wanted when he'd come to the city two years ago.

“Okay,” Will said, swallowing back the sob that wanted to crawl out of his throat. “These are good.”

Trott moved inside the living room and plopped himself on the couch with his court, letting Ross lean on his shoulder. Sips watched with a careful eye, occasionally licking at his teeth. Will glanced at them, and at his family, and looked down at the objects inside the circle.

He'd never done a locating spell before, but Xephos had to be in the city somewhere. If he was, Will could find him. He knelt, reaching out to touch each of the objects with the hand wearing his ring. He felt the old magic in them, the love and nostalgia worn in their fibers, pressed deep in the pages of the books and the wood of the picture frame. It was soft, but strong, not something to be harmed or tampered with because these objects were part of Xephos' essence, his personality come alive in his dearest possessions.

Something blue and woven licked around the edges of the circle. Will sat in the barriers of the circle and placed his hand at the center, looking down at his ring. He focused, the fiery edges of Xephos' life seeping under his skin and rolling over the ring, winding under the band where the gold met Will's fingers. He grit his teeth and thought of nothing but Xephos, of the uncle he loved dearly and would trade his entire being to keep safe.

A spark, lighting in Will's chest and leaking down his arm, burned just under the ring. Growling, Will reached his magic out, electricity and oil and concrete whirling across his senses and coiling in his gut, the city itself tasting Xephos' presence. Blue fire dug under Will's collar and his skin stung, pain zinging down his spine. Even Xephos' latent presence objected to Kirin's magic.

Will pushed through it, and the burn under the ring moved, invading the jewelry itself, twirling and pushing and shoving in one great push _down_.

A feeling like someone had hole-punched his finger shot through him, tearing his flesh, and Will cried out once, the yell echoing through the room. He was vaguely aware of bodies leaning away, of the taste of fear, but it faded. Will panted, his breaths too shallow, and opened his eyes.

The ring glowed, not with Will's electricity or Kirin's green touch, but with blue fire, burning in a focused point on the ring. Will sat back and brought the ring close to his face. More green had invaded the city, miniatures of the trees and vines outside showing on the stone replica of the city, but Will ignored it, searching for the burning blue point and where it was brightest.

Under glass and between stone models, it wasn't a clear sight, but Will inhaled another spike of Xephos' presence and found it, near the heart of the city, on one of the tallest buildings. It flared when he saw it, coiled and gleaming under the glass of the ring.

“Here,” Will said, standing. He gestured to the ring, looking at Honeydew. “He's here.”

Honeydew didn't pause, turning to Lalna. “Stay here,” he said. “Protect the house, don't let in any more greenery if you can help it. I'll give you some of Xephos' charms to help.”

Lalna stared, lips parted, and nodded numbly. “Sure,” he said after a long moment. “Yeah.”

The Garbage Court was on their feet, pulling clothes into place and moving toward the doorway.

“Where are _you_ going?” Will asked.

“With you,” Sips said, grinning. “We gotta find tall and skinny before he's hurt, right?”

Will glanced at Ross, who nodded. Trott looked at Smith, and Smith glared but shrugged. They would all follow their king, and their king clearly wanted to help find Xephos. Will couldn't fathom any reason why, except maybe Sips was more decent than he had thought and Xephos still mattered to him on some level.

Or maybe he was just trying not to keep a debt for living in their house. Living with fae had to have some effect on a person's awareness of debts, even someone like Sips.

Will looked at the ring again, watching the burning blue fire. Honeydew walked past him to the kitchen, and the basement door opened again.

He came back with a battleaxe.

Jumping away, Will gaped. “What in the–”

“Preparedness,” Honeydew said, hefting a thick metal axe with a carved handle, dwarven runes running up and down its sides, “is important. I knew I'd need this someday.” He rested it on his shoulder, shifting his weight to support it.

“O-Okay,” Will sputtered, looking at everyone again. “So, we find Xephos? He's near the center of the city, on a building.”

“Let's go!” Sips sang, turning to go to the foyer. His court followed, save for Trott, who ducked down into the kitchen. Will, glancing at Honeydew, walked after them.

Honeydew went upstairs, his axe resting by the hall closet, to get protective charms for Lalna. Lalna wore several necklaces and clutched the other charms in his hands, his lips tight. “Be careful,” he said, watching them drag on coats and prepare to brave the city. “This is–” Lalna swallowed. “This is big shit.”

Trott came back to the room, now bearing a messenger bag, and took the coat Sips gave him. Honeydew hefted his axe again, now donning a dark brown coat. The plants outside grew like it was the height of summer, but snow still fell over the ground, late February weather keeping its promise of ice and frozen breaths.

“Funny thing about big shit, Lalna,” Honeydew said, grabbing Lalna’s hand and rubbing down the wrist, squeezing tight, “is that you try not to think about how big it is until you're done with it.”

Lalna hesitated, and nodded, taking Honeydew's hand in turn and holding it for a moment.

Will glanced at the ring again, checking on the blue fire. It hadn't moved. “Ready?” he asked, looking at everyone else.

They all nodded. Honeydew patted the base of his axe, and Trott put a tight hand on the handle of his bag. Will turned and grabbed the doorknob, his fingers tight. The collar flexed, green magic flaring, clogging his breaths. “Whatever happens,” Will said, looking at them, “I don't want to endanger anyone's lives. If something bad happens, run away, hide, just don't go charging in blind.”

Honeydew snorted. “Will, you've already got us in too much trouble. We can handle ourselves for whatever comes next.”

Will nodded and pulled on the doorknob, opening the door.

Outside, it was even worse than what Will had seen out the window. Plants of all kinds, from tiny flowers to towering trees, had broken through the sidewalks and started crawling up the buildings. The houses in their small neighborhood were covered in thick walls of ivy. Deciduous trees that shouldn't have leaves, but _did_ , sprouted in their yards and created a forest.  They reached so high above them that their thick branches formed a canopy, blocking what little winter sunlight they had.

The magic hit him hard. Will stumbled in the doorway and panted, green magic thumping against his chest and rushing through the collar, spinning over his skin like a miniature tornado. The leaves of the collar tickled his neck, and Will swallowed, shaking his head to clear the fog. The city was turning into a forest, but underneath it he could still hear the rumble of trains underground and the spark of electricity in the telephone wires.

But it was weaker.

Everyone piled out of the house sans Lalna, and Honeydew locked the door. Will glanced around, thumbing at his ring. The fastest way to the center of town would be by using Xephos' car, parked slantways in the driveway.

They didn't have the keys because Xephos had started keeping them on his person to stop Will thinking he could sneak off in the middle of the night. But even if they did, the car had already been enveloped by vines. They threaded through shattered windows and wrapped like blankets over the tires, keeping the vehicle grounded.

The rest of the cars in the city would probably be the same, or were at least on their way there.

Will looked around for something better, seeing torn streets and upheaved sidewalks. He caught sight of a form, on the sidewalk across from the house.

It was a woman, sitting down. Thin branches had coiled over her legs, keeping her down, and her eyes were cast toward the ground. “Look,” Will said and pointed. “Come on!” He didn't pause to wait for everyone else, running down the porch steps and crossing the street. Bits and pieces of the road had been torn away, revealing the dirt underneath and giving grasses and ferns room to sprout. Oncoming traffic was the least of Will's issues.

He knelt beside the woman, and nearly jumped back. Her face was pale, gaunt, and her breaths came out slowly. She didn't flinch when Will moved closer again. “Miss?” Will asked, waving his hand near her face. No movement. “Miss?”

Will leaned closer, and saw it, his eyes going wide.

Around her shoulders, almost indiscernible, was a thin green ribbon. It wrapped loosely around her body a few times, the end tying into one of the branches holding her down. Will growled and snatched it with his bare hand, dipping into Kirin's green magic all too naturally after all his practice.

The debt wouldn't budge. Will pulled with his hands and, failing that, put both palms on his bent knees and tried to grab it with magic alone, but neither worked. The ribbon stayed in place, barely moving and refusing to break, and he couldn't untangle it from the branches trapping her.

Looking up, Will searched for other people. They were conspicuously absent given the chaos uprooting the city, but he saw it, farther down the street.

There was a figure he couldn't make out the details of from this distance, but he could see their body slumped next to the street, and the coat of vines wrapped around them. No one else was visible on this block, but the trees growing into the houses and the vine walls covering the buildings told him enough.

Kirin was using the people. He was tying their debts to this new magic and somehow helping himself with it, drawing on the magic of their bonds and keeping the people of the city immobile and useless under his hand.

The collar tightened. Will frowned and wedged two fingers under the edge, yanking until it loosened enough for him to breathe, although the vines continued to move and twist in the air, their leaves brushing his skin and reminding him of the collar's presence.

The others had caught up to him by now, looking at the woman and at Will. “Kirin's using them,” Will said, and struggled to take in his next breath, feeling the weight of all the debts he'd shifted to himself. Nano's Lalna would be free, and so would Nilesy. Lomadia never had a debt in the first place, always careful about paying Kirin back. At least they were safe.

And, thankfully, neither his family nor the Garbage Court looked at Kirin long enough to incur a debt.

“The debts,” Will said, turning to face them, licking his lips. “Kirin's pulling out everything he has, including his power over the city's people. The buses won't be running on streets like this, and the drivers are probably all incapacitated anyway. We've got to walk.”

“Ain't that just perfect,” Honeydew spat, glaring at the woman on the street, the branches around her body. “Better late than never to start, I guess.” He started walking, moving past Will, down street that led in the general direction of the city's center.

Will walked behind him, the Garbage Court taking up the rear. Sips walked closest to him, complaining loudly about having to do all this shit while nursing a black eye. Smith stood close beside him, Ross and Trott at the very end.

As they moved, sprinting in between their walks to speed their journey, the Court collected various blunt weapons. Ross picked up a snapped board of wood, broken off from one of the houses. Smith grabbed a rusted pipe when they passed the alley where teenagers liked to hang out and break their belongings. Trott found a shattered fence post.

Honeydew hefted his axe every now and again, shifting it from one shoulder to another and back, the metal head gleaming. It wasn't exactly a surprise, but Will had to wonder where he'd gotten something like that, and whether he'd used it before.

Xephos was near the center of the city, his burning blue fire still gleaming at the top of one of the skyscraper's models. Greenery had nearly covered the city in Will's ring, and at the top of the building model with Xephos' flame, stone flora covered the top and draped down the edges of the square roof.

The city only got worse, the longer they walked. Roots as thick as Will's torso rose up and under the street like the back of a crocodile in a river, bursting up from the earth and sinking back down, scattered pieces of asphalt surrounding them. Leaves spilled from the windows of shops, homes, offices, growing up the walls and spreading on the ground, roots clinging to any surface the plants could find purchase on. Ferns curled over Will's feet, and the collar pulsed with green life. He could taste Kirin's green at the back of his throat, and part of him felt grateful that he was Kirin's consort and he could resist the magic. He was probably the only one in the city with a debt that wasn't affected by the spell.

The people were the worst. In the residential area, the plants had gone into people's homes, and Will hadn't had to see as many in the street. In the city proper, though, there were more bodies. People bent and bowed on the sidewalks, in the shops, stuck halfway through doors and leaning over their cars, all wrapped in green with a sickly shade to their skin. Will kept his head down as best he could, watching his ring.

They didn't live terribly far from the city's center, but without a car or bus, it took too many hours to run their way there, stopping too often for Will's liking to catch their breath and check their backs for any vines that might grab them.

It was late afternoon when they finally arrived at the building where Xephos' fire glowed. Will looked up and saw the garden of greenery at the top, matching the model in his ring, and felt the thick swell of magic that carried up from the street and settled on the roof. He had to crane his neck just to see the leaves falling over the side from the top.

Branches had broken through the windows just like in every other building, and a forest of trees was growing around the walls, blocking the base of the skyscraper and shielding the doorway. They stopped in front of the forest, the Garbage Court tense and snarling, even Sips going stiff, and Honeydew raised his axe to strike down the nearest plant.

Anger and magic welled up in Will, spilling over and pouring down his skin, making his blood rush. “Kirin!” he yelled. “Get down here, you fucking coward!”

The green magic pulsed and grew, surrounding the top of the skyscraper in a cloud of life that shook the walls of the building all the way to its base. Will barely had time to register the thrum under his feet, and cried out, stepping back from the building.

Too late. Trees burst from the street all around them. Shouts rang around his head and Will scrambled to get away, the fully formed tree trunks curving like vines, bending and seeking. Will turned as he ran and saw where they were going.

The branches shoved Smith and Trott away and went straight for Ross, a wave of magic erupting from their bark and blowing back everyone else. The trunks wrapped around him before Ross could so much as duck away, binding him around his chest, his legs, branches pointing toward his throat and threatening to pierce it straight through. He yelled and dropped his chunk of wood, his tail whipping out and trying to strike the trees, managing only to scrape the bark. The spell bound him like a vice, the trees squeezing him tighter and tighter.

“Ross!” Smith was the first up, clawing at the trees, water leaking from his fingertips and running down the trunks. Trott was right behind him, launching himself at the nearest tree, but a branch struck him in the chest and knocked him back.

“You gotta be fucking _kidding_ me!” Sips spat, running towards the mess, but Honeydew's hand on his wrist stopped him. He glared down, and Honeydew shook his head. Sips was a human; he'd be killed all too easily.

The trees wrapped tighter around Ross, lifting him too high for them to reach. Smith tried to crawl up the side and was rewarded with a branch around his ankle, yanking him down until he smacked on the asphalt, spitting out muddy water with a curse.

Honeydew pushed himself in front of Sips and ran with his axe held high, but when he swung it down the tree bark rung with a tightly woven shield of green magic, bouncing the axe up and away, out of his hands and to the street. “Damn it,” Honeydew growled, scrambling to pick his weapon back up before the vines got to it.

Ross' horns cracked, the breaks running up the delicate blue glass, and another started in his neck, his stone skin shattering under the pressure.

Will had frozen, too afraid of getting in the Court's way, and shook himself loose. He ran for the trees, his hands clenched into fists. Honeydew shouted but he ignored it, slamming both hands on the thickest of the trunks that wound up and wrapped around Ross' waist.

His heart nearly broke, looking up at Ross and the way his skin continued to crack. Will drew in a quick breath. Green magic was there, all too strong as the city faded beneath his feet, and Will brought it to the front, smashing it against the tree trunks and pulling it down over the branches threatening to pierce Ross' neck. The magic centered around his collar and burst outward, channeling the magic at the center of Kirin's debt.

The trees did not recede, but they stopped. Will growled and pushed his magic out further, willing them to move. Ross whimpered, his tail falling flat at his side. The trees shifted, barely an inch, and froze again, looser by the smallest amount. They refused to break or draw back, bound to Ross' body.

Will curled his fingers, digging his nails in the bark. He bent down, pressing his forehead to the wood. The bark scratched his skin and he could feel the magic buried deep in their trunks, ready to attack things not made of organic flesh. It was spelled to target stone and concrete and had tried to crush Ross to death. He was a gargoyle, and Will could _almost_ have accepted that the trees were after him because he wasn't made of flesh and blood.

But they'd come as soon as Will had called out to Kirin. It was too specific, and too powerful.

Will reached up, grabbing Ross' hand, fisted in his pain, and spread the fingers out. Ross looked down at him, tears slipping over his cheeks. Ross hadn't cried for as long as Will had known him, and the sight twisted painfully in his chest. Holding tight to Ross' hand, Will breathed out and let bits of green magic bind the tree trunks, coiling over the wood. “They're stopped,” he said, his voice scratchy. “They won't get any worse, but I can't– I can't–”

“Thank you,” Ross said, and tried to smile, wincing when it pulled on his cracked skin.

Will frowned and squeezed Ross' hand one last time, letting go and settling back onto the shattered street. He turned and looked at the skyscraper, at the green magic crowded around the top, the leaves and branches dangling over the edges.

He needed to get up there.

“I'm going in,” Will said, looking at the others. “Xephos is at the top with Kirin.”

“I'm coming with you.” Honeydew put a hand on his hip, tilting his chin up defiantly. “We'll give that son of a bitch what he deserves.”

Smith pulled himself up from the ground, scrapes littering his arms. He looked at Ross, trapped but no longer crying or struggling, and said, “Me too. I wanna punch that fucker right in the teeth.” He started to walk to Will, but Trott's hand on his chest stopped him.

“Mate,” Trott said, looking from him to Sips, and back. “You don't have your bridle, your magic is useless. And Sips,” he said, turning. “You're human. I don't want either of you near Kirin.”

“Aw, come on!” Sips hit his fist into his palm and ground it on the skin, showing his teeth in a wicked smile. “Lemme at that foresty antler jerk, I bet could make him see stars.”

“Sips!” Trott snapped. He grabbed each of their wrists, standing them in front of the prison of trees holding Ross. “Stay here,” he said. “Watch Ross. Keep him safe.”

Smith started to protest, and Trott cut him off. “Mate, do you really want to be up in that tower if Will's spell breaks? If the trees start crushing him again?”

Smith snorted, nostrils flaring, and shook his head. “No.”

“Then that's settled.” Trott patted both their hands, giving them a soft smile, and looked up at Ross. “I'll be back soon,” he said, reaching up to touch Ross' hand. He held it for a moment and let go, facing Will with a hard set to his face. “Let's go.”

Will hesitated, looking at the skyscraper. “Trott, are you sure . . .?”

Grinning, Trott flipped his bag open and reached inside, pulling out a long, tattered piece of brown cloth. He threw it over his shoulders and tied the ends around his neck, forming a cape, and Will's eyes went wide. The cloth dripped water and sat heavily on Trott's shoulders, glinting in the light, and Will saw, it wasn't a cape. It was Trott's selkie skin.

“I'm ready,” he said, brushing his fingers over the thick inside of the skin. “Let's go.”

They all looked at the skyscraper, Will's eyes flicking one more time to the magic at the top, and he moved toward the entrance of the building. Honeydew and Trott walked behind him, tense and ready for a fight.

A forest blocked the entrance, trees coiled across the glass doors, branches wrapped around the handles. Will reached out, and Trott put a hand on his shoulder. “I've got this,” he said, walking past Will.

He stood in front of the entrance and put both hands on the door handles. Will could feel the pulse of life in the trees around them, flaring at Trott's touch, and the vines of his collar flexed in response. If Trott felt it, he didn't react, looking directly at the handles with both hands clasped tight over the branches. He furrowed his brow and pushed against the branches, water running down the back of his selkie skin and puddling at his feet, seeping into the ground. Will flinched and tasted salt and seaweed on his tongue, and he swore his body suddenly felt lighter, like he was swimming. His collar flexed again, just tight enough to start hurting.

Will's hands flew to his neck, but his eyes stayed on Trott, on the water gushing down the selkie skin. The branches around the door handles were trembling, the vibrations going up the trees and shaking them down to their roots.

“Open, damn it!” Trott growled, and with another flood of water down his back and an extra thickness to the salt on Will's tongue, the branches crumbled. They curled and dissolved like wet paper, falling off the handles and the glass doors with dull thuds.

The seasickness went away, and Will breathed, his collar loose again. Honeydew side-eyed him but didn't ask, walking to the door.

Will paused for a moment to catch his breath, and followed, the weight of the debts and the collar getting heavier with each step he took toward the building. 

Trott flung the doors open and Will gaped at the sight, his voice lost somewhere in his throat. 

Inside, it was chaos.

It was dark, the sun setting and all the lights in the room rendered useless. The same trees that had broken through houses and shops and the streets themselves were here, going through the floor and growing up through the ceiling, plaster and linoleum scattered around their bases. Ceiling fans and lights were broken and fallen, littering the room, tables snapped in half and eaten up by the bodies of bushes and clusters of plants, and the windows had all been smashed in by invading vines. The foyer of the skyscraper had turned into a jungle, the remnants of its former life lying broken on the floor. There were no bodies here. Will hoped that meant whoever had been inside had gotten away. 

Honeydew raised his axe, ready to attack, but the plants beat him to it.

A vine launched off the wall, aiming for Honeydew's chest. Will cried out and thrust his hand forward, in front of Honeydew, yanking green magic off his body and tossing it away. The vine stopped inches from his hands, and dropped, writhing on the ground.

The first attack was the signal, and the plants that had been lying on the floors or twisting up the walls came alive, prying away from plaster and wood and sliding over the broken surfaces, straight for them.

Trott curled his selkie skin over his body and ducked around the plants, grabbing them and shriveling their bodies with saltwater or filling them so full of the stuff that they burst. He was soon tangled up in vines, avoiding patches of thorns that scratched his skin.

Honeydew wielded his axe and charged, slicing anything that came near him. Will braced himself, bubbling his green magic around him to stop the plants in their tracks. He did his best to protect Honeydew and Trott while they moved, searching the room for stairs they could use to get up.

The doors to the stairway were across the room, broken open. Inside, the stairs had been shattered and crushed by weeds that had risen from the floor.

Will knew the elevator would be a lost cause, the shaft likely clogged by branches. He saw a tree branch swinging down toward him and dove, rolling over the floor and feeling the branches barely brush his head, bouncing off his green magic shield.

If he could, he would burn them, but the lights were gone and the city was weak, too much green choking its voice and keeping its cries quiet. There were gas mains in the ground but nothing to light them with, no electric light or flames to steal from their sources, and Will didn't want to risk the gas filling the room and lighting them all up. He ducked the tree branch again and growled, whipping his hand out to grab the nearest limb and stop it in its tracks.

He caught the thick branch, the bark scraping his palm. He winced and grit his teeth. The branch bowed under his touch, his green magic flooding it the instant he came in contact, and it bent like putty beneath his fingers.

Will blinked, and pulled the branch back. It went with him, resisting only slightly. He yanked it down, planting the end of the branch on the floor, and followed it with his eyes to where the branch met its trunk, looking at a tree that had punctured the ceiling.

Avoiding the vines and clamoring at his feet, Will hopped onto the branch, walking half-bent to keep himself small, meeting the trunk. He looked up and saw the hole in the ceiling, where the tree trunk grew higher and higher. He couldn't see the top of it, only that it grew up through multiple floors.

The branch shifted under his feet, lifting him higher. Will glanced down, at Honeydew and Trott still battling with the foliage. “Hey!” he said, waving at them. “I know a way up!”

They paused in their fighting to look at Will and ran to him, dodging leaves and vines. They launched themselves onto the branch Will had perched on, Honeydew scrambling with his axe until Trott took his hand and pulled him up.

Will put both palms on the tree and forced himself to breathe slow, to keep his green magic around them and ward off the attacking plants, and spread his fingers wide over the trunk. Magic and life churned within, the tree stretching as high as it could to shatter the building around it and tangle its root and branches so deeply that the city would never be able to free the skyscraper from its grasp.

Closing his eyes, Will let green magic flare from his fingers and map out. The collar burned on his throat, getting hotter each second he used the tree, but he ignored it, feeling for the nearest branch. It was above his head, as thick as the one he stood on, and he forced it to bend down, to wind through the crack in the ceiling and reach until it swept by Will's head and stayed there.

Looking down, Will said, “Grab on!” and wrapped his own hands over the thickness of the branch, ignoring the rough bark and sharp fragments of branches poking into his skin. Next to him, Honeydew yanked down a smaller branch to move the thick part closer to him, and Trott wrapped both arms around the body of it.

Another flare of magic, chlorophyll sitting bitter on his tongue, and Will forced the branch up, hoisting them up and away from the battling plants snapping at their heels on the floor below.

They were flung upwards, and Will held tighter. Trott managed to keep his hold, but Honeydew slipped and fell, tumbling down. He hit what had been the ceiling of the first level and was now the floor of the second level; the branch had carried them up.

There were plants here, too. Will looked up. The nearest branch on the trunk was too high to grab them.

The trunk jostled. Will and Trott both fell, crying out, and smacked onto the floor. Trott pulled his skin tighter around him, and Will grabbed at his glasses, making sure he hadn't blinded himself in the fall. They hadn't shattered, and he stood up, a light throb shooting up his legs.

The plants dove for them, and the tree that had been under Will's command promptly started swinging at them. Will dodged and ran back, only to feel vines tangling around his legs; real vines, not the harsh pull of Kirin's magic.

Will could feel the magic, too, in the plants and all around them, permeating the air and stuffing his nose with it. Every breath reminded Will of the day Kirin had come to his house, his glamour completely dropped and magic dripping off every inch of him.

“Let me find another way!” he said, jerking his feet from the vines and pulling green magic around him again, doing his best to deflect any plants that came near with a thin layer of pulsing powers; he stole green magic that he couldn't find in himself from the very air, using Kirin's powers against him.

Kirin had to know they were coming.

“You better hurry, mate!” Trott said, batting away a spider plant that was dropping down from the ceiling, grasping for his neck. “We can't do this forever!”

“Are there stairs?” Honeydew shouted, chopping a thick grove of thorns.

Will looked around and found the staircase again, as demolished as the one on the first floor. “Destroyed!” he said, ducking away from a moonflower vine, its blossoms more threatening than they should have been in the darkness of the coming night, less and less light leaking in from the broken windows covered in shades of ivy.

Even as he looked for the next way up, Will could see the way the plants were attacking, their methods and patterns. They went for Trott's throat and tried to knock Honeydew down, all poison and thorns and coiled vines, but everything that went for Will aimed for his wrists, his ankles; they were trying to kill Trott and Honeydew, but Will wasn't something to destroy.

He was something that could still be salvaged.

Will slammed against a wall, narrowly avoiding the grasp of a fern that had grown much too long for comfort, and looked up. The cracks in the ceiling were spreading, plaster falling down around their heads. He reached up the walls, feeling the faint beat of city magic, of the building struggling to keep itself together in the wake of the havoc.

Bracing his feet on the floor and strengthening his shield of green magic, Will searched and found the main wires in the walls, where the electricity had died when the lights were ripped out and the switches were broken by the growing forest. He grit his teeth and tried to grab it as best he could through the walls, burrowing through plaster and insulation. He found it, the last traces barely there, and followed it up, pushing his own power into the dying sparks and forcing it up to where the ceiling and wall met.

Will had never set an explosion before.

The loud _crack_ echoed through the room. Will glanced back to see Trott and Honeydew turned his way, still fighting off plants, and looked at the hole he'd made. The tree wouldn't listen to him anymore, but the trees weren't the only ones who could make holes.

“Come on!” he yelled, waving them over. With Honeydew and Trott by his side, Will kicked the floor, using the energy left from the electricity to break the cheap carpet and the wood beneath it, sending it up and with it, themselves, launching them up through the ceiling.

They tumbled into the third floor, and Will tried his best to remember how many stories of the building he’d seen from the outside. Fifteen, at least.

Darkness fell while they made their way through. Will blew holes in the ceiling, either with leftover electricity or his own energy, feeling the ache in his muscles and pushing through it. When they could, they used the trees that had grown in the windows and broke through the floors, carrying themselves up with the branches, but even Will couldn't control them for more than a few minutes. Kirin's magic trumped his and broke Will's spells, knocking them off the branches and sending them flying into the grasps of the nearest bushes.

By some sort of grace, on the eighth floor they found a stairway that wasn't crumpled to bits, and rushed up the steps before the plants could take them out from under their feet.

Will stung the plants crawling over the stairs with his green magic, and Trott washed the steps with saltwater behind them, killing anything that might give chase. Will glanced down at his ring and saw the blue flame of Xephos' essence, still burning at the top of the building. He could swear it had been bigger before, though.

The doorway at the top of the stairwell had light piercing through it, something bright and orange. Will's heart beat hard in his chest, his entire body screaming at him to lie down and rest, but he couldn't give up when he was so close. “Nearly there,” he panted, scrambling up the last steps.

“Will, wait!” Honeydew called, but Xephos was on the other side of that door. Will ignored the warning and opened the door to the roof, crashing through and nearly falling on his face.

The door slammed behind him of its own volition. Will turned, but vines had already crawled over it, so thick they blocked the tiny glass window and stuck the handle in place. The entire top of the stairwell was soon covered, and Will couldn't hear Honeydew or Trott on the other side.

“William,” a soft voice said, and he whirled around, both green and city magic flaring up and ready to charge.

Kirin stood on the roof, a few dozen feet away. His glamour had been dropped; Kirin's skin was blue, his legs twisted like a deer's. Multiple eyes stared at Will, all seven blinking at him. A pair of antlers and ram horns curled out of his head. Their natural crystal blue color was dulled in the orange light, little balls of sodium stolen from street lamps hanging in the air around the roof.

“So nice to see you,” Kirin said, smiling so wide that his teeth glinted, his razor sharp canines showing. His tail, strong enough to strangle, whipped back and forth behind him, the feathery white fur on the end trailing over the plants scattered on the floor.

The roof had been turned into a garden, all the grasses and bushes and trees that had pierced the building ending their journey here. The edges of the roof were flanked with tall trees that Will was sure he hadn't seen from the ground, and thick vines teased at his feet. Will growled and kicked at them.

“Will!”

A new voice. Will's eyes went wide, and he looked up again, eyes flicking back and forth until they found the source.

Behind Kirin, half hidden by the lush bushes, was Xephos. He stood, still dressed in his evening wear, hair mussed and cheeks streaked with dried tears. Around him, a circle of tree trunks was planted in the concrete, bent down to meet at the center and twist up, trapping Xephos in a cage.

“Xephos!” Will tried to step forward, to run to Xephos and break the trees around him, but Kirin moved, blocking his path.

“Tsk, tsk, Will,” he said, brow furrowed. Branches coiled near his feet, rising higher and covering what little view Will had of Xephos. “You won't even say hello?”

“Fuck you!” Will clenched his hands, the city magic flaring. He tried to steal the sodium light for himself, to use its flame, but it resisted, just like the trees had. It was under Kirin's command. Will swallowed and said, “Give me back my uncle.” He squashed the panic fluttering in him, feeling the edges of the light flickering around him and how it wouldn't obey, despite being part of the _city_ and belonging to Will.

Kirin laughed, his tail sweeping in wide arcs behind him. “What do you hope to do?” he asked, sneering. “Defeat me? William, you couldn't even stop me from summoning your uncle. You had all the power in the world to protect him, and you didn't.”

Will thought of the chocolates, and shook his head. “You tricked me!”

“Hardly.” Kirin glanced behind him, at the cage and the shrubs quickly covering Xephos.

“Will, get away from him!” Xephos said, but the branches rose higher, and soon he was blocked completely, his words muffled and unintelligible.

Kirin huffed. “So pesky.” He looked at Will again, smiling. “Will, you became my consort. You were willing up until the very end. It's such a shame that you decided to duck out for the very best part, but, well.” He shrugged. “That's what back-up plans are for.”

The summoning. Xephos, stuck in a cage, and the sodium lights that wouldn't listen to Will.

Kirin had taken his uncle and was using him, just like he was using everyone else in the city. He was taking power and using it to ensnare the city, ripping it out from under Will's feet.

“You can't hold the city in an iron fist,” Will said. His collar, his debt to Kirin, tightened on his neck.

“Can't I?” Kirin asked. He stepped closer, hooves clacking where the plants hadn't yet covered the concrete. “I already have most of it underneath me,” he said, waving a hand to the side, to gesture away from the roof, to the city at large. “Even with your cute little stunts, breaking and moving around my debts, it didn't work. You tried to stop me, and you failed, William.”

“Let him _go_ ,” Will snarled, drawing on the power still left inside him, the heart of the city that beat with his own. “Or else.”

Kirin snorted, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. “I'd like to see 'or else.'”

Will moved back and closed his eyes, forcing his breathing to slow. Kirin's magic had slowed the city down, but it hadn't stopped, not yet. The trains still rumbled underground, the windows still shone with lights left on before the citizens had been taken, the pipes still rumbled with gas and water and sewage. Animals scattered around the plants and hid in their dumpsters, their trash cans, their alley ways, taking refuge in the homes they'd known for years and ignoring the call of their original birthplace; they'd come from the wild, but they lived in the city.

His hands shook with the weight of the debts Will had tied around himself, and he sent his magic outward, rocking and vibrating through the building, down the streets, and it went out in a wave that bounced and came back to him just as hard, smashing into Will and making him cry out.

Slate and asphalt covered his hands, bracing them in armor, and his feet were shielded in boots of metal, the walls and pipes and trussing of the buildings binding itself to Will's body. He grabbed his city magic and threw it up, all around him.

The collar twisted. Will opened his eyes, and smiled.

Green magic flooded to him. It flowed through the collar, now a conduit, and the ring on his finger shone with electric brilliance, the green models in its glass flaring as brightly as the plants around him. Chlorophyll and the taste of sunlight washed over him, and Will laughed, raising his hands of slate and spreading fingers that dripped with the hot tar with which the roads were laid. The debts he'd taken on, had taken away from Kirin, wrapped over his shoulders and hips, giving him the strength he needed.

Will looked at Kirin again, raised one foot, and stomped it down. Magic exploded from it, cracking the floor and ringing up the trunks of the trees. “I told you,” he said, “to let my uncle go.”

Kirin stared at him for a long moment, eyes tracing up and down Will, and he giggled. “My,” he said, joy bubbling up his his throat, his shoulders shaking with his laughs, “that's a cute trick. But it won't help you. The first move you make will only hurt your loved ones.”

Will stopped, going stiff. Something quiet came from the enclosed cage, Xephos trying to say something that Will couldn't hear, but his eyes were on Kirin. “What?”

“William!” Kirin said, waving his arms like it was obvious. He came closer, tutting at Will, his eyes narrowed with amusement. “You defied me. You thought you could escape your debt. But you owe me your magic, your love, your _life_.” He stood mere feet from Will, tilting his head again. “How could you ever fight me? Your debt is in my hands, and you belong to _me_.”

The collar flared, burning his skin. Will's heart pounded, and he glanced at the cage, covered in vines and branches. He looked at Kirin, pleased and expectant, his arms open, tail swishing.

Will growled and stomped his foot again, the magic bursting out and upwards, shielding him. “Kirin,” he said slowly, enunciating every syllable, “I don't owe _anyone_.”

The city came to him, the parts Kirin hadn't yet claimed, the parts of the city that would always belong to themselves and couldn't be stolen, because if they were taken, they wouldn't _be_ part of the city anymore. Will put both hands together and summoned glass and rock, thinking of the houses that sheltered people and the offices that gave them purpose, and thrust his weapons out to Kirin, the shards shooting like bullets from his palms.

Kirin ducked easily and launched forward with bared teeth, snatching Will's collar. Will’s magic rose up, trying to shield him, but Kirin broke it and yanked him forward. Will yelped, scrabbling at his hands, the pull on the collar nearly choking him. Hot railway lines and the electricity in the telephone wires burned underneath the vines, growing hotter the tighter Kirin held the collar.

“Don't play cheap tricks,” he spat, glaring down at Will. “I made you what you are, Will. I can break you just as easily.”

Will struggled, his skin on fire, the collar pulled tight with the tension. He looked Kirin in the eyes and saw the same crystal blue as his horns, the blue that had looked into his own and told Will that Kirin cared about him, that he meant something special to Kirin.

And they were the same eyes that had tried to steal his magic and had bound Xephos with false words of truce and apology.

“No!” Will steeled his feet on the ground, concrete wrapping around his ankles to hold him there, and he jerked back. The light of neon signs and sun-stained sidewalks burned the collar hotter still, and just like that, it snapped.

Will fell, the concrete releasing his feet to let him tumble over the ground. Kirin stood straight, his eyes wide. Will looked up and saw the collar, a thread of vines and leaves, lying on the ground. It quickly dissolved, the magic fluttering away, and left emptiness in its wake.

The collar was broken. Will's debt was gone.

There was only a second to marvel at the fact that he'd broken his own debt. Kirin snarled, diving at him. Will yelped and rolled away, grabbing the nearest branch and yanking himself to his feet. He could see the cage, wrapped too tight to see Xephos, and ran for it.

Kirin went after him but Will threw up a wall of branches, green magic exploding from his fingertips. Kirin snarled, caught, and Will went to the cage.

His ring glowed with bright city magic, the buildings and streets coming alive with Will's fury, breaking through the armor of stone Will had put around his fist. The armor fell away in chunks to reveal his ring, shards falling at his sides. He slammed one palm on the cage, ignoring the ivy that tried to wrap around his wrist, thwarted by the armor still left there, and brought his bare fist forward. The ring knocked into the wood, cutting past the ivy, and Will dragged it down, cutting the glass across the trunks and shoving city magic between the cracks.

There was a loud snap, and one of the trunks cracked, falling backwards at his side. Will got both hands between the gap and pulled, the magic in the trunks dying as they collapsed on themselves and rolled to the concrete floor.

The ivy fell away and Xephos was there, sitting in the center of the circle, hands cupped and lips moving in the murmurs of a spell. He looked up when the trunks smashed to the ground, stunned. “Will!” He stood and crawled through the gap in the cage, the seal of the circle broken without its barrier. Will grabbed his arm and pulled him out.

There wasn't any time for a reunion. Behind them, Kirin snarled, snapping the shield Will had thrown up, and Will turned to meet him. He bent low and put his hands on the floor, drawing up concrete and slate, and thrust it upwards.

Kirin's growls stopped, but trees rose up and smashed into the shield, cracking it from top to bottom, and aimed straight for them. Will held his hands up. “Stop!”

The trunks that had been coming for them froze. Xephos stared with parted lips, and Will stood, his hands held out. They glowed bright green and he could feel the magic flowing down his arms, tingling through his body, humming with the greenery all around him. It pulsed outward in low waves and trailed up his body, branches bending away from him, vines coiling at his feet but not trying to capture him like before.

“We're _done_ ,” Will spat, and the ground burst around Kirin's feet.

He tried to get away, but Will's magic was too fast, metal and concrete rising around Kirin and binding his legs to the floor, wood and plaster from the building below curling up and binding his arms. Kirin's magic blazed, bright blue licking over the binds. His horns shone in the dull light, enough to blind someone.

Will barely flinched, shielding his eyes with one hand and stepping closer. “I don't have a debt,” he said, “and I never will.”

Iron pipes crawled from the holes around Kirin's feet, waving like cobra snakes to a tune, and lurched at Kirin's throat. “William!” he growled, but they didn't hesitate, winding tight over his neck and wrapping around each other, braiding a collar onto him.

It was almost enough, but not quite the thing.

“William, release me,” Kirin demanded, all seven of his eyes narrowed with fury. His tail whipped back and forth, only to be slammed down by another iron pipe, tied to the ground. “William, you are my _consort_!”

“Not anymore.” Will felt the debts around Kirin's body, how they wavered and flexed with the collection of binding magic Will had summoned. They were too strong to be completely torn from Kirin.

But Will had broken his collar. He could break the leftover debts of the city, in time.

“You tried to take over the city and kill everyone,” he said, looking into the two eyes at the center of Kirin's face, the ones he'd looked at for two years and trusted to keep him safe. “You don't deserve the same freedom you gave me.”

Behind him, Xephos started to say something, but Will couldn’t hear him past his magic. The collar had been around his neck for two months. Will knew what it felt like, and he searched for it again, feeling it at the base of his stomach and drawing it up. It churned and writhed, impatient and seeking. The spell was not one to be left on its own for long.

Reaching a hand out and ignoring Kirin's bared teeth, Will reached up and touched his horns. Their power flared again, but the iron pipes around Kirin's neck kept the magic at bay. With both hands, Will grabbed Kirin's horns and let the magic of his debt climb up, over his hands and past his fingers, winding around the antler prongs. They settled there as bright green ribbons, and Will moved back, looking over his work.

Kirin's skin shifted from dark blue to pink. The glow on his horns faded, and his extra eyes vanished. The tail disappeared, present but invisible, and the cracks in Kirin's skin, the pulse of violent blue magic, faded. His glamour was back in place, his magic trapped, and the moment the binds over Kirin's legs loosened, he fell to his knees.

“Holy christ, Will!” Xephos ran to him and stopped at Will's side. He thrust a hand out, blocking Will's front. “Are you mad?!” he asked. “Get away from him!”

“Xephos,” Will said, and got a firmer shove back, Xephos putting himself between Will and Kirin. “Xephos,” he tried again. The defensive magic fell from his hands, the last of the slate falling away. He grabbed Xephos' arm and pushed it down, moving forward to look him in the eye. “He's got a spell on him,” Will said, gesturing to Kirin on the ground, his eyes cast downward. “He's no danger to anyone at the moment.”

Xephos turned to him fully, and Will looked. For the first time since he'd seen Xephos trapped in the circle, he really _saw_ him, the sunken eyes and skin too pale for its dark tone, and he could have sworn there were extra gray hairs on his temple.

A moment passed, and Xephos' shoulders shook. He barely suppressed a sob and grabbed Will around the shoulders, drawing him in tight. “I thought you were _gone_ ,” Xephos said, burying his face in Will's shoulder. “He took me and wouldn't tell me where you were.”

“He didn't take me.” Will put his hands on Xephos' back, glaring at Kirin over his shoulder. Kirin glanced up and winced, the ribbons pulling tighter at his horns, tugging at their bases with the threat of ripping them off completely. The iron pipes were barely visible in the darkness, but Will could feel them at the edges of his magic.

“Right.” Xephos drew back and wiped his eyes. “Right.” He turned and looked at Kirin, lips drawn back, almost growling. He held up a hand and a burst of bright blue came from the palm, the same fire that had glowed inside Will's ring. It danced over Kirin's head and whirled around the green ribbons of Will's binding, settling on top of them and resting there like torches.

Kirin moved to stand, hands clenched into fists. “Don't you _dare_ burn me!” he yelled, and cried out. The fire flared and singed his horns, their flames seeping down the back of Kirin's neck. He fell onto his hands and knees and writhed, fingers digging into the floor.

“There,” Xephos said, putting his hand down. “That should help.”

Something banged behind them. Will and Xephos turned to see the door to the stairwell open, the vines that had been around it now fallen to the floor. Trott and Honeydew had spilled out, Honeydew's axe waving with the momentum he'd put behind it to smash the door down. Trott had his skin drawn up around him, and lowered it, brow furrowed.

“Dew!” Xephos ran forward and clasped Honeydew about the shoulders as he had with Will, and Honeydew dropped the axe in his shock.

“What the fuck happened?” Trott asked, eyeing Will and Kirin, keeping a safe distance from them both.

“I bound him,” Will said, glancing at Kirin. The iron pipes were burning, getting hotter with Xephos' fire, and Kirin grunted, pawing at them but unable to break them with his glamoured human touch.

“Fuck.” Trott dropped his skin, eyes wide. “Well . . . good job, then.”

Will shrugged. Kirin was on the floor and in pain, and though it should have felt good to free his uncle, all he could think about was Kirin's magic sealed in the confines of the ribbons.

In the time Honeydew spent fretting over Xephos and asking if he was hurt, something changed on the roof. First one leaf fell, and then another, and then tens, hundreds, shedding from the trees around them. Will gasped and spun around, watching them fall and turn brown before they'd even touched the roof, the trunks bowing with an unknown weight. The bushes and grasses at their feet withered, and the vines that had wound around every other plant on the roof wilted, collapsing.

The entire urban garden that Kirin had planted was dying.

“Let's get out of here,” Honeydew said, looking around. “Before some tree crushes us to death.”

“And him?” Trott asked, tossing his head toward Kirin.

“He comes with me,” Will said. He stepped toward Kirin and stopped just in front of him. Kirin looked up, eyes narrowed and lips drawn in a tight line. Trailing off the ribbons over his antlers was a free end, loose and waving despite there being no wind. Will leaned forward, sensing the tension of the people behind him, and grabbed the ribbon.

Kirin snatched his ankle. Will jerked and sent an automatic bolt of electricity down his body, sparking over Kirin's skin. Kirin hissed and let go, glaring at him. “You can't bind me forever!”

“I don't need forever,” Will said, doing his best to breathe and calm his heart from the scare. “I just need tonight.”

He pulled on the ribbon and Kirin stood, grunting with each movement. His glamour hid the antlers but Will could see where the magic was outlined, along with the eyes and teeth and tail, everything trapped under the mask he'd put over it. It would only be a matter of days before Kirin broke from the disguise.

“Let's go,” Will said, dragging Kirin with him and going to the door. The others paused, and followed, their steps cautious and their breath light, trying not to make much sound.

They went down several flights in silence.

On the tenth floor, Trott said, “So you really did a number on him, eh, mate? Honeydew and I couldn't see squat through the vines over the window.”

Will glanced behind him. Trott was looking down expectantly, his limbs tense.

Sighing, he said, “Yeah, sure,” and kept walking.

Kirin muttered things, words meant to break the spell, and though the ribbons waved and Xephos' flames flickered, none of it broke. The iron collar didn't move around Kirin's neck the way Will's collar had done for his own, but when Kirin's words grew fast and Will could feel his magic licking at the edges of the binding, Xephos' flames seeped into the metal and burned Kirin's skin until he stopped.

On the floors where the stairs had been broken, they went into the building proper and jumped through the gaps in the floors, tumbling and rolling to break their falls and doing their best to land on the cushions of dying plants scattered around the rooms. Will tugged Kirin behind him, forcing them to jump together down to the first floor. Kirin wouldn't look at him, a dangerous fire behind his eyes.

Inside the threshold of the building, as broken as it had been, Will still hadn't heard the city. It had been muffled by Kirin's plants and his focus on finding Xephos, and for a while, the city had been quieter than Will ever knew, only roaring back to life when his magic had demanded it.

When they stepped outside of the skyscraper, it hit him.

Like the night Kirin had been trapped in the circle, the city cried for him, whining and clawing at his mind, begging for him, the city's conduit and sorcerer, to put an end to the destruction. Kirin's plants were dying, but the damage they had left was still there, windows broken and walls collapsed, and every citizen under Kirin's touch bound up in vines.

The entire city was bleeding where the roots had shattered the streets. Will almost stopped to try and fix it, until he saw Ross.

He was still bound up in the tree trunks, struggling to get free. Sips had a knife out and was working at the bark, and Smith was trying to summon his magic despite not having his bridle. They all looked up when the group approached, their gazes seroing in on Kirin immediately.

Will held tight to his ribbon of debt and walked up to the trunks. Smith jumped back, snarling, and Sips looked Kirin up and down. “He's fine,” Will said quickly, putting his free hand on the trunks of the trees holding him. They were already weak and crumbling, held up only by Will's spell that had kept them frozen in the first place. He took a breath and dispelled it just as quickly.

The trunks snapped, breaking under Ross' weight. He yelped and fell down, tumbling sideways. Smith cursed, catching him beneath the arms. “Oi!” he complained, nearly buckling under Ross. The trees fell down to the street, cracking like planks and scattering around their feet.

Ross untangled himself from Smith and looked at Will. His skin was still cracked, minor damage done to his horns, but he wasn't crying in pain anymore and he could stand on two feet. Will smiled, and Ross swallowed, turning away.

Kirin grunt behind him, muttering. Will turned to glare. “We're going home,” he announced, looking at their ragtag group, and the plants dying in the street all around them. “Before everyone else in the city wakes up.”

That seemed to sober them. Honeydew took Xephos' hand and started leading the walk.

“I could steal a car,” Smith offered, letting Ross loop his tail around his thigh. “We walked bloody fucking forever to get here.”

“We're not stealing,” Xephos shot back, directing them toward the sidewalk. He and Honeydew led the front with Will and Kirin behind them, the Garbage Court watching their backs. “We'll catch the first bus or subway we can get to, but everything's going to be a bit slow after all this mess, so get used to walking for a while.”

Kirin's plants died faster the farther they got from the center of the city, and Will could feel his magic trying to break the binding, to push out and roll over the city again. Xephos' fire flicked at Kirin's skin when he tried it, and Will made sure to push more magic into the ribbons when he thought they might snap.

The buses had been stopped when they went outside, but as the vines shriveled and the trees broke, dead leaves and splintered wood left in their wake, the city started to move. The people in the shops got up, shucking off their leafy prisons, and those on the street blinked in the darkness of the night, unable to remember when they'd gone to sleep.

Will cast a spell over their group, making them as inconspicuous as the litter in the streets, only able to be seen by those specifically looking for it. No one turned their heads as they walked home and, about a half hour after they started their walk, they passed the first bus that had started back on its route, no doubt with a very confused driver.

There would be time to erase the effects of the day, to soothe the confusion and help the people get their footing back after having it ripped out from under their feet. But Will's eyes hurt every time he blinked and he knew he was walking slower, with the debts he'd tied around himself and the spell on Kirin that he was trying not to lose.

They found the next bus station going toward Xephos' house and got on the bus ten minutes later, crowding into the back. Kirin's antlers flickered faintly under their spell, lit by the buzzing lights on the bus, and Will threw up another layer of disguise over their group to keep any other passengers from getting upset.

At the house, they paused to take in the damage. The plants had died, but the structural damage in the house remained. The windows were broken and there were holes in the walls, all the signs of a violent intruder. Will steeled himself and walked up the porch, his leash on Kirin tightly wrapped around his fingers.

Lalna, guarding the foyer, jumped when they walked in the door, and yelped at the sight of Kirin. “Will, what–”

“He's trapped,” Will said, already tired of the answer. “Let's get in the living room, we have stuff to talk about.”

Lalna backed away from the living room doorway to let them pass, eyes flicking over his parents and the Garbage Court, and he followed with tiny, nervous steps.

Will didn't waste time, pointing to the circle in the center of the room. “Get in,” he told Kirin.

Kirin eyed the spot, and looked at Will. “Surely you don't expect that to work. Don't you think I would have safeguarded my own circle being used against me?”

“In!” Will snapped, and Kirin frowned at him. “I can yank you in by the spell,” Will threatened, pulling at the ribbons of debt again.

Kirin rolled his eyes and shuffled inside the circle where he'd summoned Xephos away. Will bent down and put a hand over one of the holes that had punctured the floor, weaving green magic over it and letting it extend around the circle, covering it in a thin shield that would rise up the moment Kirin tried to break free.

A wave of nausea washed over him, and Will groaned, standing up. If he didn't sleep soon, he'd collapse.

Everyone else spread out in the room. The Garbage Court took up the couch, Sips perching on one of the arms and running his hand through Trott's hair. Lalna curled up on the armchair, and Xephos and Honeydew stood on either side of it, glancing at each other and at Will.

“We need to get rid of him,” Will said, his voice hard despite the surge in his chest and the sharp twang of his heart. Kirin shot him another glare.

“Kill him,” Xephos said.

Every head in the room turned to look at him. Xephos stared hard at Kirin, and looked back at Will. “He summoned me and used me to work his green magic into the city, and he nearly killed you when you tried to stop him. You can't wiggle your way out of it this time, Will. He needs to die.”

“I agree,” Honeydew said, licking his lips. “He nearly destroyed the city just to have it. He's no sidhe lord, he's a tyrant.”

“Please, by all means,” Kirin drawled, “speak of me as if I'm not even here.”

“Can it, greeny,” Smith snapped.

“We don't _have_ to kill him,” Lalna said, sitting up in his chair. “We could strip him of his magic, let him suffer as a human.”

“Or we could torture him,” Trott offered. Sips, for once, was not smiling, his lips turned in a solemn frown as he nodded to Trott's words.

Will looked at Kirin, and Kirin met his eyes. They were the same brilliant blue, the color of the birch marks and the antlers, of the magic Kirin had shown when he'd come to Xephos' house to crown Will as consort. He'd learned from Kirin and reveled in green magic. Even now, with Kirin trapped, Will could still feel the green magic in him, rolling around with the city magic just beneath his skin. Sparks of plant life and the burn of electricity coiled tight together and thrummed inside his chest.

Kirin had been the heart of the city, tied to all the people, and he'd used his power, had used _Will_ , to try and take over for good, to rule as lord over the people and the streets. He hadn't been content with merely having pulls and favors, he'd needed real power.

All the same, Will didn't think he could kill him.

He swallowed and looked at the floor. It was quiet, the others waiting to hear his opinion. Will clenched his fist and felt the bands of the ribbon over his fingers, the smooth magic that waited for his command to break it or tie it somewhere.

“It's my magic that's binding him,” he said slowly, “so I get to decide what we do with him.” He waited and heard no objections. Will raised his head and looked at Kirin again. “I can't do this,” he said, blowing out a long breath. “I can't be around someone who tears people's hearts out for his own use. I can't be around a sidhe lord. So you can't be around me anymore.”

“William,” Kirin tried, clicking his tongue. “You need me.”

“Clearly I don't!” Will snapped. “Because I used green magic when you didn't want me to, and I took the city back even when you tried to use Xephos to take if for yourself. I'm a sorcerer and I don't need your help anymore.”

Kirin leaned back, eyes wide. “Will–”

“Don't!” Will's nostrils flared, his heart beating faster. He tried to keep the tears from his eyes, and said, “This city is mine. It belongs to me, and I don't want to see your face ever again. I don't want a whiff of your magic to cross this ring.” He held up his right hand to show off the enchanted ring, twisting to make it glint in the light. “I want you out of my streets, Kirin.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, no one else daring to breath.

Kirin shook his head and sighed. “I had hoped you could stay by my side, William.”

“As an equal, or a pet?” Will asked.

Kirin didn't answer, narrowing his eyes, and Will scoffed. “That's what I thought.” It stung just the same, to let the words out, and he stepped back from the circle. Kirin had never loved him. That much was obvious now.

“Xephos,” he said suddenly.

Xephos stood straighter, blinking. “Yes?”

“Help me get rid of him,” Will said, looking Kirin in the eyes. “I'm tired and I don't think I can do this alone.”

Xephos took one look at Kirin and nodded. He moved to kiss Honeydew on the forehead and stood at Will's side. Will kicked a foot over the edge of the temporary circle and it broke. Kirin moved, ready to jump, and Will yanked the ribbons. They pulled on his antlers and forced him down, growling. Will watched him stand, bent at the waist, and loosened his grip. “Try that again and I _will_ kill you,” he said, and turned to leave the living room.

He let Xephos don his jacket and they went outside, to Xephos' car. The leaves wrapped around it had fallen, freeing it, and Xephos climbed in the driver's side, sweeping away broken window glass with his jacket sleeve. Will opened the back door and pointed Kirin in, taking the passenger side for himself. He kept a hold on the ribbon, the magic staying even as it passed through the physical shell of the car.

“Where?” Xephos asked, starting the engine.

“Out of the city,” Will said. “Kirin's banished.”

“What?” Kirin said, leaning forward in his seat. Will kicked up the divider between his and Xephos' seats and waved a small bit of magic over it, letting it serve as an actual wall between them. “William,” he said, laughing, “you can't _banish_ me from my own city.”

“Yes, I can, because like I told you, it's mine.” Will looked at him over his shoulder. “Your debts will go to me, and I'm going to spend as long as it takes freeing them so that the people of the city aren't bound to anyone anymore. I know what it's like to be in debt. I won't let them stay like that.”

Kirin crossed his arms and snarled, kicking his knees on the back of Will's seat. Will hadn't seen such childish behavior from him, and when he looked at Kirin again, he saw the flicker of the antlers, and felt how Kirin's magic was still trying to break his bind.

Will wasn't listening to him anymore, and Kirin was throwing a fuss like a two-year-old. Xephos had warned him of fae losing their decorum when their tricks didn't work.

Xephos drove in silence. Will looked at the clock and saw the time, but it didn't mean anything to him. It was dark and he was exhausted; the fiasco that morning when Kirin had tried to keep Will under his thumb while they stood in the shop was worlds away.

The garden shop would need someone to manage it. But then, Will hadn't been an apprentice for nothing.

The city was big, and it took over a half hour to escape to the outskirts, nearing the highways that crossed through plains and forests to wind their way to the next piece of civilization. There were plenty of exits and more sensible places to pull off, but Xephos found the closest bit of road without a giant fence on the side and pulled off into the grass, near a small section of woods. Will glanced back at Kirin and sighed. He would probably sleep on the way home, after this mess was taken care of.

They got out. Xephos locked the car. They walked to the edges of the woods. Kirin had told Will once about his origins as a faerie, as someone who controlled nature. Kirin had come from the forest, he'd said, and moved to the city as life grew and adapted. His horns, his tail, the deer legs, they were all hints to where he'd been born, where he would always survive.

“William, you can't banish me,” Kirin said, his voice soft.

They stopped at the edges of the woods leading away from the highway. Will frowned at him. “Why not?”

Kirin met his eyes and gave him a soft smile. “I've taught you everything,” he said. “I showed you what your magic could be, how you could grow.”

Will's heart fluttered, and he swallowed. Next to them, Xephos faced the highway, watching for police patrollers that would tell them to get off the side of the road. Will looked at Kirin again. “You did,” he admitted, his voice nearly cracking. “You gave me so much, Kirin. I– I loved you as so much more than a teacher.” He blinked, tears welling up.

Ross' cracking glass horns and Xephos' terrified face flashed in his mind.

Will's brow furrowed. He clenched his hand tighter on the ribbon and said, “You tried to murder my best friend and his family, and you kidnapped my uncle. I don't care about what you did for me. What you did _to_ me is unforgivable.”

Kirin cooed. “No concern for the city that you claim as yours, then?”

“You hurt my family!” Will snapped, yanking the ribbon hard enough to make Kirin bend down a few inches. “The city is mine, Kirin, but you hurt _me_. You never cared about me at all. You're lucky I'm even letting you live, at this point.”

Standing straight, Kirin's lips pursed, all sweetness gone. “You are wrong. I do care for you.”

“Not enough to keep me and my city safe,” Will said, shaking his head. He stepped forward, putting his hands on the iron pipes that still clung to Kirin's throat. “Be grateful,” he said, grabbing them and, layer by layer, pulled away their magic. They dropped heavily into Will's hands, nothing more than bits of metal, and Will looked at Kirin's neck, burnt from the iron and Xephos' fire.

It still danced between his antlers, a trembling blue flame that refused to go out; the fire bounced on the edges of Will's binding ribbons. The debt that Will had left glowed brighter, extra layers of deep green ribbons settling on the antler prongs.

Will had spared Kirin's life, and that debt would exist for centuries to come.

Cars whizzed by, their headlights briefly lighting up Kirin's face. In their absence, the glowing ribbons and Xephos' fire were just enough to see by.

“Get out,” Will said. He stepped back and squared his shoulders, willing his body not to tremble. “Get out and never come back.”

Kirin's eyes darted up, as if they could see the ribbons around his antlers. He met Will's eyes again. “You were a good consort,” he said. His glamour flickered, fading without the iron pipes to keep his forced submission. Kirin's skin blended from pale pink to blue, and his tail emerged from behind him, swishing in the grass. “You were the _best_ consort,” Kirin continued. “You defeated your own lord.”

Will closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. The joy of being Kirin's consort had only lasted a few days before the fear had set in. Even in the wake of that, the bitterness of having his role taken away wracked his body, and he could feel the sobs coming up his throat. “Goodbye,” he said, and turned before he did something monumentally stupid.

He met Xephos at the edge of the road. Will pushed green magic into the ground, forcing it to bury beneath the dirt and keep a veil of protection over the highway, spreading outward. It would wind around the edges of the city and shield it from Kirin's presence. Will could strengthen the city itself when they went back.

Will's spell would last and Kirin was forbidden from entering the city. He would stay in the woods where he'd come from, far away from humans.

At least, Will thought, getting back in Xephos' car, that was the hope.

“Was it hard?” Xephos asked, turning into the nearest exit to loop back to the city.

“Yes,” Will said, looking out the window. The glass had been shattered and the wind blew cold on his face, nearly drowning out his voice. He watched the headlights speeding past them, the lights on the signs directing them back to the city's boundaries.

“And Kirin, he'll . . . he's gone?”

Will could hear it, the uncertainty, the fear. “As long as my debt is there, he can't come into my city,” Will said. “Kirin’s gone.”

Xephos tapped his hands on the steering wheel, a faint thump of rhythm. “Is there . . .” he started, and Will looked back at him. Xephos kept his eyes on the road, face pinched. “Could he go to another city?”

Swallowing, Will shook his head. “He's bound to me. I'll fix the spell tonight, strengthen and refine it, but as long as I'm in the city, he can't come in _or_ go too far. He's stuck in a buffer zone.” He put his hands together, fiddling with the heavy ring that glowed faintly with his magic. “I'm sorry I couldn't kill him.”

Xephos tensed. “It's . . . all right. I understand why you couldn't.”

He didn't really understand, and never would. Will leaned back in his seat and breathed deep, watching the cars again and feeling the hum of their engines, the roll of their wheels over the road, getting stronger the closer they got to the city. The lights of the city's buildings were visible in the distance, the hum of life already picking back up and repairing the damage Kirin had done. The city would never die, as long as there were people living in it.

He would have to learn how to care for it. Will had been the city's conduit, but not its protector, and now that Kirin was gone, the city would need someone to serve as a shield and a warning to intruders. It would take months, possibly years, to clear Kirin's presence and adjust to his new role.

Will closed his eyes and emptied his mind. He didn't want to think of Kirin or the city or his magic for the rest of the night. Instead, he listened to the wind rushing past the car, the hiss of the radio static scratching its way out of the speakers, and Xephos' steady breathing in the seat beside him.

 


End file.
